


The Signs of Twelve

by 4lw4ys_a_fri3nd_n3v3r_a_l0v3r



Series: Circle Backwards. [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banshee Lydia Martin, Banshee Powers, Blackmail, Emissary Lydia Martin, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Human Sacrifice, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Jennifer Blake is the Darach, Loss of Control, Loss of Powers, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Major Character Undeath, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Summoning, True Alpha Scott McCall, Vampires, Werewolf Hunters, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5934895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4lw4ys_a_fri3nd_n3v3r_a_l0v3r/pseuds/4lw4ys_a_fri3nd_n3v3r_a_l0v3r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Stars shower in the rain,</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Flames of ice will burn again.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Banshees cry at a darkened moon,</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The tree of Life will meet its doom.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Heavens bleed when a phoenix burns,</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Light is fading, Death has come.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Losing Again Somehow

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit it's been a while since I posted anything worth reading on here. And I know many of you are waiting for updates on many of my fanfictions: _True Identity_ , _#1 Teen Detective Agency_ and _I Don't Belong Here_ to name a few.
> 
> Updates on those fanfictions will come at a later date. What I will tell you, my faithful readers, right now, is that this new fanfic is a new version of _Circle Backwards_ , hence the series title. I have already decided that there will be a sequel to this, because I have already decided where this one will finish (right down to the last line) - if I ever reach that point, but fingers crossed.
> 
> But this is a sign that my muse is returning, so here's hoping some other fanfics will start again - once again, _True Identity_ , _#1 Teen Detective Agency_ and _I Don't Belong Here_ to name a few.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been eight years since the Alpha Pack. Eight years since the Darach was sacrificing the people of Beacon Hills. Scott and his pack have finally settled down, handling any supernatural threat to the town while managing to separate their normal lives from all the drama.
> 
> Until they celebrate the new year by investigating an unusual disappearance. And it's not the only one. And eight years doesn't mean anything, because Scott feels like he's been thrown right back into high school. Has the Darach returned?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is the brand new _Circle Backwards_. For the most part, nothing has changed except the ritual being performed. I feel safe enough to say that the original ritual involved strength, in that each person was being sacrificed in order to gain their most prominent trait: i.e. their knowledge (brain), their charm and wit (tongue), their heart (compassion).
> 
> I'm not going to say too much more than that, because I don't want to spoil anything, but hopefully, things will start becoming clear as I add more chapters. As it is, I don't know how many chapters are going to be in this, but I'm assuming it will be more than twelve.

Scott tried not to make a big deal out of people going missing again.

People went missing all the time. Kids ran away from home, hikers got lost in the woods, sometimes people just left without telling anyone… They weren’t in high school anymore, missing did not mean dead.

Granted, they’d never actually found the Darach but, whoever they had been, they’d stopped sacrificing people after the Alpha Pack, or Deucalion at least, had left the territory. And that had been over eight years ago. Maybe there was always a chance that the dark Druid would returned to finish whatever it was they had started all those years ago, but so far, there had been no sign.

Scott tried to remain optimistic. After the Alpha Pack had left and things had settled down amongst the then-two packs of Beacon Hills, all the bad luck and misfortune just faded away. Scott often wondered if things had only been so hard because they – the wolves and hunters and humans – had made it hard.

But remaining optimistic was hard when you kept focusing on the part where three people had all gone missing within the space of a month.

The first person had gone missing on New Year’s Day. It had been something of a big deal throughout the town because it was the first disappearance – and even the first police report – of the year. Scott hadn’t heard about it until late evening, having been sleeping off a New Year full moon and forest celebration.

The second disappearance to be reported happened over a week later. Allison said there were similarities between the two disappearances – most notably, a symbol carved into the wall of their apartments, from where both people had vanished.

And then two weeks later, the third person went missing. Once again, he disappeared from his apartment, and all that was left was a symbol carved onto the wall.

Three. Just like the Darach.

* * *

“Any luck figuring out the symbol?”

“It’s called a triquetra,” Lydia answered, pushing a sketch of the symbol towards Scott. “It’s like the triskelion. It means three.”

“Three what?”

She shrugged. “Depends. There’s maiden, mother, crone; spirit, body, mind; past, present, future; love, honesty, protection; and those are just a few.”

“Which one applies to this situation?” Scott asked, considering her answer.

“I don’t think we know enough about these disappearances to say. Unless each one represents a spiral of the triquetra. Which means someone else could go missing.”

“You’re right,” Allison suddenly spoke up from her corner in the room, where she was frowning at her phone. “Isaac just texted me. There’s been another report. Another disappearance.”

“Well, here’s an idea,” Lydia was tapping her pen against the table. “I could be wrong about this but…I think it’s been twelve days since the last disappearance. And I’m pretty sure it was twelve days before that. Is that a pattern?”

“Every twelve days?” Scott murmured thoughtfully. “Maybe, in this case, each of the spirals represents four. And three spirals of four.”

“Does that mean we could end up with twelve disappearances?” Allison asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Not if we can find a way to stop them,” Scott glanced between the girls. “Do we know of any connections between the missing people yet?”

“Isaac’s working on that with the Sheriff.”

“Well, here’s my question,” Lydia flipped through some sheets of paper filled with notes. “What’s happening to them after they’ve disappeared?”

There was a pause. Scott sighed, frowning deeply. Lydia resumed her pen tapping, while Allison closed a file over and put it to the side.

“Well, we know they aren’t dead,” she said after a moment.

“If you’re referring to my lack of screams,” Lydia responded, “I wouldn’t take it as confirmation. My powers aren’t reliable, remember?”

“I thought Deaton was helping you to control them?” Allison leaned forward.

“I think he’s helped me as far as he can. Without finding a real Banshee to help me, I’m not going to get any better than I have.”

“Hey,” Scott reached across to squeeze her arm comfortingly, “you’ve gotten pretty good with your predictions, y’know. If they were dead, you would have screamed.”

“Assuming they were still in Beacon Hills when they died.”

“Try to stay optimistic, Lydia.”

“I am,” she sighed, resting her head on her hand.

Allison yawned suddenly and stretched. “Hey, do you guys wanna take a break and go get lunch or something?”

Scott smiled. “Sounds good. We can come back to this with fresh eyes.”

Lydia took a moment before pulling herself up. “I have a couple of appointments later, so you guys will be on your own. But lunch will be good.”

Scott tidied up all the notes they had collected on the missing people so far, while Allison grabbed their jackets. “That’s okay. Derek doesn’t have any classes after lunch, so he should be able to step in for you.”

Lydia hummed. “Maybe he’ll be able to come up with some helpful theories.”

Scott sighed. “Just about anything would be helpful right now.”

* * *

Despite having known Sheriff Stilinski personally for at least eight years, Isaac was still awestruck by the man.

He had a way of making Isaac feel both totally comfortable yet painfully awkward in his presence. Spending his shift – and his lunchtime – helping him out with his inquiries into the recent missing person cases did absolutely nothing to help this.

“So the first guy is a lawyer,” John ran through his list, “the second a magician and, now, the third is unemployed?”

“Yep,” Isaac compared his own list. “Taking a gap year.”

“The first is 30 years old, the next one 23, the third is…?”

“19,” Isaac finished, frowning faintly. There was a heavy pause.

“First is male, second is female, and now this one is male again?”

“That’s what I’ve got.”

“Three different people, leading three different lives and barely a connection between them. All we’ve got so far is that the lawyer worked a case with the magician’s mother. But that’s out the window, with the newest disappearance.”

“No connection there,” Isaac agreed, flipping his notebook closed.

“We also don’t know why they were taken, or even how.”

Isaac looked up at the Sheriff in surprise. “Other than being taken from where they lived?”

“Well, yes, but there was no evidence found of anyone other than who lived in the house or apartment. No forced entry, no footprints, no fingerprints. No signs of struggle, no signs of a heavy body being taken out, nothing.”

“Maybe they were beamed up into the sky,” Isaac suggested absently.

“Aliens, really?”

“Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen to Beacon Hills. And it would explain the randomness of the victims, right?”

“I think we should try to stick to the scientific and, more importantly, the realistic explanations here, Isaac.”

“And what’s the realistic explanation for the symbol carved on the wall?”

“Calling card,” John responded. “Any update on what the symbol is?”

“Scott said Lydia called it a triquetra,” Isaac replied, recalling what he could from Scott’s text over lunch. “It means three. Like the triskelion. He also said we could be looking at twelve victims.”

“Where’d they pull that number from?”

“Apparently, there were twelve days between each disappearance. Twelve is a multiple of three.”

“Which is where the symbol comes in,” John summed up. He sighed. “Even aliens sounds sane right now. What I want to know is, are bodies going to start turning up again?”

“Scott’s been wondering the same thing,” Isaac said after a beat. “He’s trying to remain positive but you can see he’s worried.”

“He has a habit of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders,” John sighed. “Alright, let’s go talk to some of…Stephen’s friends, see what they can tell us.”

Isaac nodded. “As long as we pick up coffee on the way.”

“Agreed,” John nodded. “But you’re buying this time.”

* * *

“Three down, nine to go.”

Mera giggled and kissed her lover. “It’s all coming together wonderfully, my dear.”

Alix nodded. “And I’ve been tracking the final sacrifice. As predicted, he’s headed this way.”

“Did you doubt me?” Mera smiled faintly. “He is drawn by the power. As we all are.”

Alix hummed. “What about the werewolves? They will try to prevent this.”

“Simply an inconvenience. They will fall. We will make sure of it. Nothing can stop what is coming. Not even a True Alpha.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Mera kissed her again. “This is happening.” She smiled slowly. “Death will rise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from the song that inspired it: [Circle Backwards](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1vvvGEU8CA).
> 
> Fic title is related to the plot, which I'm sure, by now, is pretty obvious.


	2. Can't Take The Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Researching into the disappearances proves trickier than first thought. Especially when their only real clue is a symbol carved into the wall of the living space of each missing person.
> 
> Help might be on the way, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To put this context, it's been roughly 8 and a half years since the Alpha Pack. This is set in January 2020, roughly, the current chapters are near the end of January, around the 25th - that's when the third person goes missing.
> 
> Scott, Lydia and Cora are 25 at this point; Allison recently turned 26 (January 16th); Isaac is 24; Derek is 32; Ethan and Aiden are 28; other ages are still to be determined but the Sheriff recently had a birthday too (January 19th).

Derek put his head around the door of Jennifer’s classroom. Lunch had started a few minutes ago and, as he’d thought, she was packing up some of her work.

“Hey,” he said, catching her attention. She smiled when she saw him.

“Hey, Derek. Ready for lunch?”

“Uh, yeah, but we’re going to have to make it a short one.”

“Everything okay?”

“Scott says someone else has gone missing. Since I don’t have any classes later, they want me to head over and help them go through the notes.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “I don’t mind. The disappearances are more important.”

Derek stepped properly into the classroom. “I’ll make it up to you. How about dinner? Friday?”

Jennifer brushed her hair behind her ear, as she set her work aside. “Sounds good. As long as it’s not too much trouble, tomorrow’s the full moon.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled softly, moving over to kiss her cheek lightly. “Dinner with you is enough to make it all better.”

She chuckled. “It’s a date then.” She sighed. “So someone else went missing?”

“Yeah. Some 19 year old, in his gap year.”

There was a pause.

“Just a kid,” Jennifer said quietly.

Derek took her hand and squeezed gently. “We’re gonna get whoever’s taking them.”

She looked at him sadly. “Here’s hoping, right?”

“Let’s go get lunch. It’ll take our minds off it for a while.”

“If you say so,” she sighed.

Derek tugged her lightly towards the door. “At the very least, we can pretend to forget about it all until the school day is over.”

“I just…19 years old? We send them through high school just to see them sacrificed?”

“No one said anything about sacrifices. They’re just missing right now.”

“How do you know?”

“Lydia would have sensed something if they were dead.”

“But she said so herself, her powers aren’t reliable.”

Derek stopped to look at Jennifer, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Nineteen’s really young,” she replied quietly. “What if they start getting younger?”

Derek didn’t say anything for a long moment. Jennifer looked so concerned, almost on the verge of tears, not that he could blame her. He’d been upset at finding out that the newest victim was 19. Memories of the last time there had been sacrifices, and also the thought of his own students suddenly up and disappearing.

“Missing doesn’t mean dead,” he said after a beat.

“But why else would you kidnap three different people, if not to sacrifice them?”

A good question. And one for which Derek didn’t have an answer.

* * *

“Hey, Lydia,” Sammy looked up as her pack mate – and boss – walked through the door of the office. “How’s it going?”

“Hey, Sammy,” Lydia smiled but there was an edge of tiredness on her face from staring at words written on paper until they’d jumbled together. “Not good. There’s been another disappearance.”

“Another one? That’s three now?”

“Yeah,” Lydia nodded. “The Sheriff and Isaac are working on finding connections between them while Scott and the others try to figure out who might be doing this.”

“It’s awful,” Sammy shook her head. “I hope we figure it out soon. This must be bad for you too, huh? After high school?”

Sammy and the other two weren’t around when the first sacrifices had taken place but they had been told. At least now they were even on that front.

“Scott’s taking it pretty hard,” Lydia admitted. “He struggled with not being able to save people in high school and he’s struggling again.”

Sammy nodded. “And how are you doing?”

“The best I can,” Lydia smiled tightly. “When’s my first appointment?”

“In about twenty minutes,” Sammy checked Lydia’s schedule. “And someone called up and made an appointment for four thirty. The wife of the first disappearance.”

Lydia winced. She should have expected one of them to turn up at some point. “Alright, well, I’m going to go get set up. Buzz me when my first patient arrives.”

Sammy nodded the affirmative. “You got it.”

* * *

The good thing about having a pack mate who was a librarian was that Cora could pull out as many books as she wanted and no one would say anything about it.

Not unless the table broke under the weight of all the books she’d pulled out.

“Maybe we’ve bitten off more than we can chew,” Felix suggested, coming up behind her with yet another stack of books.

“It is a lot of books,” Cora agreed. “But people are beginning to get worried. We really need to find something before it’s too late.”

“There’s not a lot for us to go on. A symbol carved into the wall? There could be hundreds of rituals with that step.”

“How many with that particular symbol?”

“More than you might think,” Felix responded, dropping the books onto the table. “The Celtics were into symbolism a lot. Do you know they had their own Zodiac system?”

“Really?” Cora’s eyebrows lifted. “And how do you know that?”

“I’m into that kind of stuff.”

“So you know what this symbol is?”

“Yeah, it’s a triquetra. Its general meaning is three and it can be applied to a situation where three is relevant: Alpha, Beta, Omega, for example.”

“Like the triskelion?”

“It’s all part of the same family,” Felix shrugged.

“But wait. If you already knew what the symbol meant, why was Lydia the one who had to go find out?”

“How do you think Lydia found out?”

“So, rather than tell us yourself, you had to be an inconvenience?”

“Before you go getting mad, it’s been years since I did any real study into the Celtics. And I was tired when I first saw the symbol. All I knew was that I recognized it. It wasn’t until Lydia came in, asking for help with the symbol, that I remembered properly.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Still sounds inconvenient.”

“You’re making mountains out of molehills. What exactly are you looking for?”

“Anything. Anything that might help us.”

“Once again, all we have to go on is a symbol. We could be here for hours and still get nothing.”

“It’s better than just sitting around, doing nothing. I want to be able to help. Even if it seems pointless, I just want to be able to do more than wait around for the next disappearance.”

Felix looked at her for a moment. He’d been with the pack long enough to know what they were feeling, just from how they were acting, and he could tell she was frustrated. Worried too.

“You’re right,” he said after a pause. “We should look. And even if we don’t find anything yet, at least we’ll have something to remember when we learn more.”

She smiled faintly. “Does this mean you’ll help me?”

“I already said yes, remember? Now let’s go get the last few books and then we can start.”

Cora nodded and followed Felix, feeling slightly better after their talk.

* * *

“So what’s the word?” Dave passed Aiden his order.

“There’s been another disappearance,” Aiden sniffed the coffees lightly to make sure they were right, even though he didn’t doubt the barista’s ability.

“Three? Just like last time?”

“It’s beginning to look more and more like it. The Darach might be back.”

Dave nodded, setting about making another order. “Any idea why?”

“Are you kidding? We never knew why they were here in the first place. And it’s not like we ever had the chance to ask them.”

“Scott said they were after the Alpha Pack.”

“That’s what he assumed. Because the Darach disappeared when there was no more Alpha Pack.”

Dave frowned, pausing in his work. “You think differently?”

“I didn’t say that,” Aiden replied. “I gotta get this to Ethan. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Uh, sure, see you,” Dave nodded, returning to the coffee, but he glanced back to watch Aiden leave the café.

The garage where Ethan worked nowadays was just down the street. Aiden walked there, holding the coffees carefully in his hands.

His brother was working on the underside of a nice car, but he pushed himself out from under it when he heard Aiden approach. He wiped his hands on a nearby cloth, and took his coffee, sipping it lightly.

“That’s good. You okay?”

“Someone else has gone missing.”

Ethan frowned. “That’s not good. Who?”

“Not anyone we know,” Aiden shrugged. “Some kid who liked to hike in the woods, according to the radio.”

Ethan leaned against the car. “Well, that’s three. Won’t be long until the bodies start showing up, I’ll bet.”

“You think it’s the Darach too, then?”

“It’s beginning to look like it. Don’t you?”

“Just seems a bit strange, that’s all. Eight years and now they decide to come back and finish what they started?”

“Maybe they’re not here for us.”

“Then what would they come back for?”

Ethan hesitated. “That’s assuming they even left.”

“Are you really trying bring that back up?”

“Are you really trying to pretend we didn’t hear that conversation between Kali and Deucalion?”

“Jennifer is not the Darach!” Aiden hissed furiously.

“How do you know? She came to town at the right time. And it would make sense why the sacrifices stopped. She would have known that the pack was dead, Deucalion was gone and that we were siding with Scott now.”

“If Jennifer was the Darach, do you not think that she would have been found out by now?”

“They wouldn’t suspect her. She was an innocent back then. And they don’t know what we do.”

“We don’t know anything either. Kali was probably mistaken.”

“Really?”

“We are not having the conversation again,” Aiden made to leave. “And,” he added, turning back, “don’t you dare say anything to Scott, okay?”

“Fine, whatever,” Ethan shrugged. “I’ll let it go. For now.”

Aiden rolled his eyes and walked away. “See you later.”

* * *

The van slowed at the ‘ _Welcome to Beacon Hills_ ’ sign – long enough for a small camera to poke out of the driver’s side window and flash as it took a picture – before picking up some speed and following the road into the city.

In the early morning sun, the white of the van glittered harshly, despite the dust and dirt splattered up the sides. Three words were painted brightly on the side, each letter twisted and entwining with the other: ' _The Street Corner_ '. Above it, there were some random compliments sprayed abstractly across the paint.

On one side, there was an area where the van opened up, presumably to serve people. There was a small menu painted next to it, with a variety of dishes at cheap prices.

The food truck cruised the streets slowly, with no apparent destination in mind. If anything, it just seemed to be familiarizing itself with the town again.

It finally pulled to a stop outside the Sheriff's house. And that's when the driver climbed out.

"Welcome back," he murmured to himself.

* * *

“Mera,” Alix hurried through the house, looking for her girlfriend. “Mera, where are you?”

“In here, darling,” Mera called from the kitchen. “What is the matter, my dear?”

“As you predicted, the sacrifice is drawn by the power of the land.”

“Yes, I said so, did I not? What is the problem?”

“He has crossed the border.”

“Already?” Mera looked round at her. “He’s early.”

“He is too _soon_. He will ruin our plan.”

“No,” Mera shook her head, reaching to take Alix’s hand. “We have been planning this for years. Nothing will get in the way. We have a contingency plan for this, remember?”

Alix bit her lip. “Will it be enough?”

“We have more than one. We just have to keep him distracted until it is too late to stop.”

Alix nodded, taking a deep breath. She leaned in to kiss Mera’s cheek. “What would I do without you, my love?”

Mera smiled. “You are too sweet. Go get the book. It is time for Plan A.”

Alix kissed her again. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are just setting the scene, introducing all the characters. I plan to have a flashback chapter, back to high school and then a chapter that explains what's happened since - which will just explain what's going on with each character, like Lydia and her Banshee powers, and Cora, and the pack in general.
> 
> This chapter is almost 2,000 words. I'm taking my time. I still have a lot to figure out: the Distraction that Alix and Mera are planning is a recent development and I have no idea at the current moment what it is going to be. Luckily, I still have time - and presumably a few chapters - to come up with something.
> 
> As for Ethan and Aiden: Deucalion and Kali knew who the Darach was/is - Jennifer - and the conversation they had in the hospital episode actually took place in private but the twins overheard. They just never told Scott about it. There's some canon divergence there that I will cover in the flashback.
> 
> Chapter title comes from: [Friction](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_VNkjw-_Hs).


	3. Trying Steps, Find Me At Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something has changed within Beacon Hills. Scott can feel it deep down in his bones, where his wolf resides. The balance of power in the city has shifted somehow. Deaton, of course, has his own theories.
> 
> To top it off, an old face is back in town after eight and a half years of silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are moving slower than I would like for this. I suppose it's because I'm still not into any of the real action, and I'm still rebuilding my muse for this. But at the same time, I'm trying to take it slow.
> 
> Chapter 3 is up quick though. Inspiration is still hazy but with many characters, there are a variety of scenes to be played out, which gets me up to 15 hundred words pretty easily. I just have to keep track of which character is where and talking to who.

There was something different. Scott felt it as soon as he woke up, although he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. But something had changed. He couldn’t decide if it was good or bad, only that it was different.

He woke his mother up with breakfast in bed – a regular occurrence on weekends, rather than weekdays, but routine wasn’t going to stop him from surprising his mother.

It was the day of the full moon. He could feel the tug of his wolf beneath his skin, but years of experience meant it didn’t bother him anymore.

“Hey, Deaton,” he greeted his boss as he walked into work. “Did you hear?”

“About the newest disappearance? Yes, Mr Stilinski stopped by and told me yesterday.”

Scott slid his jacket off. “Do you think the Darach is back?”

“It’s possible. It’s also possible that it’s someone else entirely.”

Scott glanced at him. “Like who?”

“It could be anyone. Remember when I told you about the Nemeton? Its power draws the supernatural here.”

“I remember,” Scott nodded, a frown settling across his features. “Do you have any idea what this ritual is about?”

“I don’t know enough about it, I’m afraid,” Deaton shook his head. “As I’m sure you’re aware, a symbol isn’t much to go on.”

“So what you’re saying is we have to wait for the bodies to start turning up before we know anything? Great.”

Deaton looked at him for a moment. “Are you sure you’re okay to be here today?”

“Yeah, I am,” Scott sighed, “I just…don’t want to start finding bodies again.”

“No one does,” Deaton assured. “And we’ll figure it out before that happens.”

Scott frowned, searching the vet’s face. “Here’s hoping,” he said after a moment.

“Alright,” Deaton nodded. “Our first appointment is in half an hour. And Mrs. Hamilton made an emergency appointment for Oscar at three, so that’ll cut our prep time for the operation at four, but I think we can handle it?”

Scott smiled a little. “We’ve done it before.”

Deaton nodded knowingly and started directing Scott to set up for the day.

* * *

“Isn’t it your day off?” John looked up, surprised to see Isaac bringing him a coffee.

“Well, yes, but I was bringing Allison a coffee on her break. She started early today.”

John took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “Thanks, Isaac. How’s it going?”

“Well, Cora and Felix are spending their time, trying to uncover some ritual that would explain all of the disappearances. Lydia is still working on the symbol, on the people, trying to find anything that might help.”

“Not having much luck?”

Isaac leaned in the doorway. “I’m sure you know how hard it is to investigate when you have nothing to go on.”

“Only too well,” John replied with a knowing look. Back before he knew about the supernatural side of life, there was a time when every case he was investigating was lacking evidence.

“I should get going,” Isaac said after a beat. “I promised I’d help Cora and Felix. There’s a lot of books for them to go through.”

“Be careful out there,” John replied, lifting his hand in farewell as Isaac turned and left. He returned to his paperwork, finishing up with a different case. He didn’t notice when his door opened again until there was a knock on the doorframe. “Did you forget something?”

“Not your birthday, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” a familiar voice responded.

John’s head shot up to look at the young man standing in the doorway. “Stiles?”

His son was leaning lightly against the doorframe, looking faintly nervous, a little tired but mostly happy, holding a small gift in his hands. “Hey, Dad. How’re you doing?”

* * *

It had been a while since Stiles had last set foot in Beacon Hills.

Over eight years, in fact, since he’d last been in his home city. Over eight years since he’d last seen his dad too. They’d kept in touch since he’d left, of course – a postcard once a month, an email once a week, a phone call every few days – but Stiles knew that, at the end of the day, it just wouldn’t compare to seeing the man in person.

However, despite not wanting to come home just yet, he had planned to make it in time for his Dad’s birthday. Apparently that hadn’t quite worked out.

“Don’t worry about it,” his Dad assured when he told him. “I don’t mind. You still bought me a gift. A dreamcatcher.”

“That’s a real one,” Stiles pointed out. “But I spent eight years traveling the world on your birthday, and then the one I actively try to make, I end up missing?”

“It’s not your fault,” John replied. “Honestly, even if you’re late, I’m just glad you made it back okay. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Dad,” Stiles smiled warmly as they turned towards the coffee place. John had suggested they take a walk to the café and get some coffee, claiming the one Isaac had brought him hadn’t been decaf, to which Stiles had raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“I’ll head in and buy us some drinks. I assume you still take your coffee the same way?”

“All black, lots of sugar.”

“How is it you get regular and I have to suffer with decaf?”

“Because I didn’t suffer a heart attack fifteen years ago due to high blood pressure?”

“That had nothing to do with my caffeine intake.”

“Jury’s still out. I’m not taking any chances.” 

“Jury’s been out for a hell of a long time then,” John muttered before heading into the café to order two coffees. “Hey, Cora.”

“Hey, Mr Stilinski,” the young Hale finished wiping one of the tables before moving around back around the counter. “What can I get you?”

“Can I get my usual and one regular, no milk?”

“Sure thing,” Cora smiled, starting to make the coffees. “But, um, I thought Isaac dropped off your coffee not that long ago?”

“Uh, I had an unexpected visitor,” John replied. Cora frowned but didn’t push the subject as she focused on making the coffees. She pushed them over the counter as the Sheriff pressed some money into her hand.

“Keep the change,” he smiled, taking the coffees and heading back outside to where Stiles was waiting for him. Cora watched him leave, her eyes widening when she spotted Stiles.

She quickly pulled out her phone, dialing a number. “Hey, Derek, there’s something you should probably hear…”

* * *

“Is she sure?” Scott asked when Derek came to visit him briefly at lunch. “Was it really him?”

“Cora said it was. Looked like him, smelled like him. Same coffee he used to drink back in high school, although I didn’t ask her how she knew that.”

“I think they once went on a date or something,” Scott answered absently.

“What?” Derek frowned, having not heard about that before. “When?”

“Was she absolutely sure?”

“Yes. Scott, it was him. Stiles is back.”

* * *

Mera placed a piece of paper down in front of Alix. It had a few names scribbled on it, with phone numbers. Alix skimmed it and recognized some of the names as well-known werewolf hunters.

“What’s this?”

“Our contingency plan,” Mera responded.

“I thought _this_ ,” Alix gestured to the spell she was working on, “was our contingency plan.”

“It still, it is just more of a Plan B now. These hunters will keep the local pack busy until we can get the sacrifices started. Then we can send in our vampire.”

Alix considered for a moment. “Maybe we’re throwing them too many bones.”

“What do you mean?” Mera settled into the seat across from her.

“Well, they’re already concerned by the disappearances. And suddenly there are hunters. And then a vampire. And you were talking about a dragon.”

“You think they might suspect something is amiss?”

“I just think we should be careful about how we deal our distractions. We do not want them to see them for what they are.”

“I understand your concern, my darling,” Mera reached to squeeze Alix’s hand.

“The boy, in particular, he has experience. We should be careful around him.”

“Yes,” Mera agreed thoughtfully. “He is a perceptive one. Our dear friend did once say that he suspected her of being more than met the eye.”

“Of which he was correct. He will be a tricky one to deceive and capture.”

Mera glanced at the spell Alix was working. “Maybe we can curse him.”

“Curse him? How?”

“With bad luck?” Mera suggested. “Maybe we could curse his memory, or his dreams. Anything to make sure he can’t focus on the disappearances. Anything to weaken him against our power.”

Alix stood up and leaned over to kiss Mera’s forehead. “I shall look into it, my dear.”

“And I shall arrange a meeting with our friend, give her a role to play within all this.”

“Just be careful. We do not wish to give away anyone’s position.”

“I will, promise. Good luck.”

“And you, my dear. And you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it tricky to write as Alix and Mera. In my mind, they speak in a rather formal fashion, in that they don't use contractions more often than they do use them. But I do use contractions a lot, so it can be hard to make sure I keep it right. They also use pet names like 'my dear' and 'darling', and they are probably the first of any of my characters to do that, so it's odd for me, in particular.
> 
> Speaking of pet names, am I the only one who's coming across all the Stiles Stilinski Boyfriend Imagines where Stiles says 'my love'? Like, no offense to the writers or anything, but when has Stiles ever said 'my love'? Or anything like that? No, he's too crude for 'my love'. It just seems out of character.
> 
> One other thing I shall say is that - the scene with Deaton at the beginning? I used to have a cat called Oscar.
> 
> Chapter title comes from the song that inspired it: [Circle Backwards](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1vvvGEU8CA).


	4. You Could Call It Cowardice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate has led Stiles to a crossroads in his life and now he must make a decision about his future in Beacon Hills. Sometimes you know something's a mistake but you have to make it anyway.
> 
> Either way, someone's going to end up hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you there was going to be a flashback chapter, didn't I?
> 
> As much as writing this is slow, it's actually not as hard as it could have been, since I already have something to go on - Circle Backwards. This is basically rewriting the first chapter of the original fic, so this one wasn't so bad.
> 
> Speaking of, as it turns out, my timeline for Circle Backwards was incredibly wrong. It was off by at least four months. Which is totally my fault.

_It was a Saturday when Stiles left._

_It wouldn’t be until years later that he would realize, and chuckle mostly humorlessly, at the coincidence – and even the significance – of leaving on a Saturday of all days, but at the time, that’s what it was._

_He hadn’t planned to leave on a Saturday, hadn’t been planning on leaving at all in the first place, but plans change._

_For example, he hadn’t planned on Scott becoming a werewolf, or Lydia being a Banshee or being whatever the Hell Deaton had called him. He also hadn’t planned on becoming friends with Lydia or getting over his crush on her or crushing on someone else…but plans change._

_As it was, his original plan generally consisted of helping Scott, in any way he could, while trying to make up for his past mistakes – the ones involving Scott, Lydia, his Dad, anyone from the last year or so._

_He’d planned to finish school in Beacon Hills and go on to university and then a job in whichever area he’d chosen to explore._

_But plans change._

* * *

_“What exactly does Derek want to see us about anyway?” Stiles asked, slowing at a red light on the way to the Alpha’s loft._

_“The Darach is still out there,” Scott replied. “He’s worried.”_

_“I thought the sacrifices had stopped.”_

_“For now,” Scott responded. “I’m sure we’d all feel a lot safer when we know who they are and that they’re not killing people anymore.”_

_“Probably,” Stiles agreed, but he was still frowning. “Is Jennifer going to be there?”_

_“I know you think **she’s** the Darach, but you gotta let that go. She’s innocent. The Darach went **after** her, remember?”_

_“Yeah, I know,” Stiles muttered unconvincingly, pulling up in front of the loft. “We’re here.”_

_Scott looked worriedly at his best friend but said no more as they clambered out his Jeep and headed into the building. From the cars parked outside, it looked like they were the last to arrive to this meeting._

_Stiles wasn’t particularly bothered. There hadn’t been a sacrifice since the parents had been taken, although that was largely because Scott had saved them before anything could happen. Shortly after that, he’d taken on Deucalion and won._

_Despite both Derek and Scott’s arguments, he couldn’t ignore the fact that something about Jennifer Blake – the young English teacher – made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. And there was the fact that she had come to town right around the time of the first sacrifice. And his Dad had been taken from the school, of all places._

_Maybe he was slightly biased. Maybe the fact that Derek and Jennifer were **together** together left a bad taste in his mouth, for various reasons. But it didn’t change the fact that there was something off about her._

_“Alright,” he sighed as they reached the door, “the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get back home.”_

_“Sorry this is such an inconvenience,” Derek replied sarcastically when he opened the door._

_“Well, I’m sorry that my Dad decided to take a few days off in the wake of being kidnapped by the Darach and that I would rather spend that time with him, making sure she doesn’t come after him again, than here at a meeting that Scott could easily give me the notes to.”_

_Derek looked slightly put out as he gestured for Scott and Stiles to enter._

_“Well, maybe we want to know if you have any ideas about the Darach,” Scott intervened quickly._

_“Other than the ones you’ve already so graciously shared with us,” Lydia added from the middle of the room. Now **that** was a direct throwing of shade at his accusations towards Jennifer._

_“Well, I don’t, so can I leave?”_

_“By all means,” Derek gestured back towards the door._

_“Stiles,” Scott looked at him pleadingly. “Just stick around for a little bit, okay?”_

_Stiles sighed. “Fine. But only because my Dad is feeling smothered.”_

_“Smothered?” Allison echoed as she moved to join them._

_“I tend to get a little over-protective in situations like this,” Stiles shrugged lightly, but his expression was downcast. “Anyway, the Darach?”_

_Everyone – except Peter, who disappeared into the kitchen - moved to gather in the middle of the room to talk._

_“So what do we know?” Isaac asked the group at large._

_“No one else has gone missing since the Darach took the parents,” Derek replied. “That doesn’t mean they’ve stopped though.”_

_“They could be waiting for the heat to die down,” Lydia agreed. “Luring us into a false sense of security that the sacrifices are finished.”_

_“Clearly not very well,” Stiles muttered._

_“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowned at him._

_“Well, some trick if we’ve already seen through it,” he shrugged, his eyes flicking listlessly around the room._

_“So what’s your theory?” Derek asked, somewhat coolly._

_“My theory?” Stiles’ gaze landed on the older man. “The Darach…” there was a beat, “was after the Alpha Pack.”_

_“What makes you think that?” Allison asked._

_“Timing. The sacrifices started just after the Alpha Pack arrived.”_

_“That doesn’t mean they’re connected,” Derek interjected_

_“That’s just my theory. Doesn’t mean it’s right.”_

_“Not a lot of your theories are,” he responded._

_(Looking back, as Stiles did often in the beginning, that felt like the turning point.)_

_Stiles shrugged again but fell quiet. Scott started to say something, but while Stiles could hear his voice, he wasn’t really listening to the words._

_His gaze travelled past everyone in the room, just looking at them; Derek, and his slight frown as he nodded at Scott’s comment; Allison, and the way she was standing, ready to defend herself at the first sign; Isaac, who was standing at her elbow, his gaze flicking between the people talking; Lydia, who was fiddling with some stray hairs as she listened; Cora, stretched out on the sofa, still recovering from the mistletoe poisoning; and Jennifer, who was sitting behind Derek, looking innocent, like a flower, as she watched her new boyfriend._

_Once again, there was a bad taste in his mouth. He sighed._

_He felt like he was watching a scene in a movie; he’d become invested enough to feel like he was a part of the scene, but any second now he was going to wake up and realize it was just a movie._

_Everyone was talking now, he could see their mouths moving as they exchanged ideas, discussing theories, but he didn’t really care for what they were saying._

_“I’m just going to,” he started but he quickly realized no one was listening. They were too invested in their conversation to notice, but surprisingly, that was okay._

_He took a few hesitant steps back but the further he got from the scene, the easier it was to leave. He turned completely and walked towards the door, waiting to hear someone say his name or for someone to ask where he was going, but nothing came._

_He paused as he reached the door, and turned his head. He locked eyes with Peter Hale, who was watching his every move._

_There was a brief second where they just looked at each other. Then Peter nodded his head slightly at Stiles, and broke the gaze, retreating back into the kitchen._

_And that was that._

* * *

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“I’m sorry, Dad, I know this is sudden,” Stiles ran his hand through his hair, “but I gotta do it.”_

_“It’s the middle of the school year, Stiles. What about your studies?”_

_“I don’t know. I can honestly say I haven’t thought this all the way through. But I can’t stay, Dad. I gotta go.”_

_“Go where?”_

_“I don’t know. Somewhere. Anywhere.”_

_“This is reckless, Stiles. You can’t just abandon your life like this.”_

_“I’m not abandoning anything. I just need to get out.”_

_“Why?”_

_Stiles hesitated, staring at the clothes he’d been pulling from his wardrobe, before looking at his Dad. “I feel like I’m watching a movie.”_

_“A movie?” John echoed in confusion._

_“Or reading a book,” he added as an afterthought._

_“What does that mean?”_

_“You know when…you’re watching a movie, or reading a book, and you get so invested that, for a short moment, you feel like you are actually **there** with the characters, watching the scene play out? But there’s this part of you that knows it’s just a movie and that’s the part that pulls you back to reality, and makes you remember that it’s just a story.”_

_“Is that how you feel?”_

_“When I was at Derek’s loft, I was watching them all, talking about the Alpha Pack and the Darach and the sacrifices…and it felt like I was watching a movie. Like any second I was going to be pulled out of the scene and back onto the sofa.” He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, it was like I wasn’t a part of the group. Not really.”_

_John reached out and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder. “But you are a part of the group.”_

_“Am I? It doesn’t feel like it. They don’t want me there. I mean, Scott does, I know he does. And he’d care if I left. And so would Allison, probably. But the others? Lydia, Isaac, Derek? They wouldn’t notice either way.”_

_“I’m sure that’s not true.”_

_“Well, yeah, maybe they’d notice. But they wouldn’t care. And that’s what bothers me.”_

_“What if choosing to leave is a mistake?”_

_“What if it isn’t?” Stiles countered, before biting his lip. “And so what if it is? We were watching that How I Met Your Mother episode the other night. They were talking about how, even if you know something’s a mistake, you have to make it anyway.”_

_“I remember.”_

_“Well, I don’t know which decision’s the mistake,” Stiles sat down heavily on the bed. “When I look back in ten years, I don’t know if I’ll regret staying or going.”_

_“Then why don’t you think it through a little more, give yourself time to consider?”_

_“Because if I don’t leave now, then I might never. I know you think this is a bad idea, Dad, and maybe it is. But I have to leave. And if it turns out to be a mistake, and I’m back in a week, then I’ll still feel better for it.”_

_“Maybe you will, but what about school?”_

_“I’ll figure something out. How about I leave, and if I don’t come back in a week, then we can arrange something for my education.”_

_“I’m worried, Stiles,” John admitted. “Are you sure about this?”_

_“Dad, please,” Stiles looked up at him. “I **need** to do this.”_

_There was a pause where John considered his son and what was being asked of him. Then he nodded. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll support you.”_

_“Thanks, Dad,” Stiles pushed himself up and drew his Dad into a hug._

_And that was that._

* * *

_Stiles left the next day, on a Saturday._

_He took his Jeep. His first stop was LA, for a week, in case it turned out to be a mistake. But he’d also taken all his clothes, his computer, books, and other useful items, in case it wasn’t. At which point he would continue to Mexico._

_“Why Mexico?” his Dad had asked, while he helped his son pack._

_“No idea,” Stiles had shrugged. “It just popped into my head.”_

_He’d find out when he got there, he supposed._

_He didn’t say goodbye to anyone except Melissa, when he was making her promise to take care of his Dad. She’d wished him well on his trip and, in turn, had made him promise to stay in touch, to which he’d agreed with a smile._

_And then it was time for him to go. He’d hugged his Dad hard, promising to come back if it was a mistake, but somehow knowing in his heart that it wasn’t._

_He wasn’t going to be seeing his Dad for a long time._

_“I’ll be back before you know it,” he’d said anyway, somewhat tearfully, upon climbing into his Jeep. “And it’ll be like I was never gone.”_

_And then he was. And that was that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I watched Teen Wolf Season 3A, I'm not entirely sure how accurate this is with timing - for example, if they already covered why the Darach was sacrificing people by this point or not.
> 
> This chapter spoke somewhat personally to me. Back when I was in high school myself, I had some pretty toxic friends (I didn't realize they were toxic until I'd let go of them), but they became the kind of friends that wouldn't have noticed or cared if I had left. I didn't experience what Stiles did - like watching a movie - but the situation was somewhat familiar.
> 
> Chapter title comes from: [It Comes Back To You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v869YR_nTuU)


	5. Out Of My Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles starts his own inquiries into the recent disappearances, while trying to avoid Scott and his pack. A visit to the Nemeton might change his perspective a little.
> 
> Alix and Mera's plan starts to take shape, when the first of their contingencies makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you thought I might have disappeared again (and I wouldn't blame you if you had) here's Chapter 5. It took me a while to get it out, largely because I'm working on one of my blogs and I was even working on a friend's blog and stuff just kind of piled for a bit.
> 
> I'm back at college, so I don't know how quickly I'll get Chapter 6 up, but I'll try. This fanfic might end up being really long, because the timeline goes from January to May, and so far, these five chapters have covered like two or three days. I'm going to try to speed it up a little though.

Beacon Hills had changed a lot in the eight years he’d been gone.

And yet, as Stiles walked through the streets, it seemed like the thing that had changed the most about the city was the energy in the air.

His Dad had mentioned something about seemingly ritualistic disappearances, before he’d been called back to work. He hadn’t gone into too much detail but he had said something about a triquetra being drawn on the wall of the place from which each victim had been taken.

In all of Stiles’ experience, disappearances weren’t good. And neither were disappearances connected to the triquetra of all symbols.

To find out more, Stiles decided to visit the one person in the town he could rely on to not ask him questions about his eight years away.

“So how many disappearances have there been so far?”

“Three,” Deaton responded, as he tended to a guinea pig. He’d sent Scott home early, when the sun started to set, assuring the young man that he’d be able to handle the operation without him.

“The Darach sacrificed in threes,” Stiles pointed out. “Do you think it means she’s returned?”

“Well remembered,” Deaton replied. “And it’s possible. But so is anything else.”

“It’s hard to tell, with so little evidence. Dad mentioned something about a triquetra?”

“Yes, it was carved into the wall of each person’s room. It’s a part of the triskelion family. It means three.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said, absently scratching his wrist. “But the triquetra means it could be any kind of ritual. There’s no way to tell until the first body turns up.”

“You sound sure that there will be one.”

“I _feel_ sure that there will be one. Three, in fact. Probably more.”

“How do you know that all of those who’ve disappeared are going to turn up dead?”

“Call it experience,” Stiles shrugged. Deaton looked round at him.

“Experience? From your eight years away, I presume?”

“You were the one person I was relying on not to ask me about it.”

“And I’m not asking about what happened during those years, I’m simply inquiring as to whether the experience you’re referring to was gained in that time.”

“Well, yes, it was.”

“So where did you go?”

“I really don’t want to answer these questions right now.”

“You’ll have to answer them at some point.”

“Yes, but I’m hoping to put that point off as long as possible, y’know?”

Deaton raised an eyebrow at Stiles, as the younger man paced the veterinarian’s surgery. “How long do you think you can hide from Scott?”

“I’m not hiding from Scott,” Stiles replied, and then, “As long as I can?”

“With the luck in this town, probably not very long then.”

Stiles shook his head, biting his lip. He seemed to fall into deep thought before saying anything else. “I was thinking of heading up to the Nemeton tonight.”

“On a full moon? When there are werewolves about? What happened to hiding?”

“I can handle the werewolves,” Stiles replied with a shrug. “I should see it as soon as possible, and what better night than a full moon? It’s risky but…”

“But?” Deaton pressed.

“But power is drawn to power. I didn’t just come back to see my Dad.”

“You came for the Nemeton.”

“I came because I was worried. And rightfully so, since people are disappearing again.” Stiles hesitated. “When I got here, I noticed it immediately. The energy of the city has shifted slightly. The best place for me to figure out how and why is at the Nemeton.”

Deaton considered him for a long moment. “Are you sure going into the woods at night on a full moon is a good idea? When you could easily run into the very people you’re trying to avoid?”

“The full moon is powerful. Magic flows the strongest on nights like these. That’s why many spells are performed under a full moon.”

“I’m aware,” Deaton cut in.

“The best night for me to check the Nemeton is a full moon. And I’m not going to wait 29 and a half days for the next one.”

“Well, as long as you’re careful,” Deaton said after a moment. “There are wolves here who will not recognize your scent.”

Stiles shrugged. “You can learn all kinds of things when you leave for eight years.”

* * *

Stiles left the house at the stroke of midnight.

The hour of midnight was one of the most magical times of the day. Others included dawn and dusk, and the hour of midday.

Stiles’ magic was strong at night. It was strong a lot of the time but strongest during nightfall. Jonas – an elderly German witch who had taught Stiles much about the world of magic – had said that this was because his magic had come to the forefront during his time with werewolves.

He had an hour to get to the Nemeton, check its power and return. More than enough time. In all his eight years of traveling, he’d never forgotten how to get to the forest and how to get to the Nemeton. He just had to avoid the wolves.

He could hide his scent easily enough – he’d learnt early on how to manipulate the air to such an extent. Sound would be harder, but as long as he was slow and careful, he probably wouldn’t run into anyone.

The air was crisp and fresh, as the air in winter should be. He tugged his jacket tighter around his body, munching on a red apple as he approached the preserve. He could hear wolves howling faintly in the distance, which added a nice ambience.

He tossed the apple core to the side, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stomped through the trees. He took a somewhat long route around, in a further attempt to remain undetected.

It was surprisingly clear for a winter’s night but Stiles wasn’t complaining as he wove his way through the trees. At least it wasn’t raining. He’d rather be cold than wet.

A wolf howled, somewhat closer that before, and he froze, in case whoever came closer. When nothing more came, he relaxed and carried on towards the Nemeton.

It hadn’t changed much since he’d last seen it, and it still buzzed with an undeniable power. To those simply casting their eye across it, they would see no change. But Stiles was trained to look closer and, although it was still powerful, it wasn’t as strong as it should have been.

These disappearances – whatever they might end up being, they were still messing with the energy of Beacon Hills. And that could end up very dangerous for those connected to that energy.

Like a local pack of werewolves, for example.

And Stiles, in fact.

There was nothing he could do about the energy change. The only way he could shift it back would be to find who’d been taken and bring them back, while stopping any further disappearances. That was assuming the missing persons were still alive, but it might be too late for that.

Stiles pressed his hands lightly against the tree, just reconnecting with the source of his power. It had been a long time since he’d been this close to the Nemeton and he could feel his magic fizzing beneath his skin like he’d never felt it before.

He was compelled to exercise some of his magic, and gave in, alighting fire, water, air, and earth with his hands, circling the Nemeton with this power. Satisfied, he turned away and started heading back through the forest.

Something tingled at the back of his neck as he walked and he had the odd feeling he was being watched. He glanced around, trying to see – and feel – if anyone was nearby.

A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision and he snapped around just in time to see a dark shape vanish between the trees. He stared after it for a long moment, tempted to go after it, but when he couldn’t sense anyone nearby, he figured it was just a figment of his imagination.

Letting down his guard, he turned back to leave the forest and startled when a second dark shape landed in front of him. Bringing his hands up, he was ready to defend himself until he registered the red glowing eyes.

Not Scott, because a bitten werewolf – Alpha or not - couldn’t turn into big black actual wolf. Then again, Stiles wasn’t aware that Derek could either, but people can learn and master all kinds of skills over eight years.

There was a brief, tense second as they regarded each other, before Derek lifted his head to the sky and let out a long howl, low and mournful, at the moon.

When he looked back, Stiles was gone.

* * *

“I thought there was already a hunter in this city. I thought it was Argent.”

“There is,” William nodded, as he drove slowly along the road, “and he sided with the wolves.”

Martin sucked air in sharply. “Man, it’s always the good ones that fall.”

William snorted. “If they fell, they clearly weren’t that good.”

“So what did the witch say about this pack anyway?” Martin changed the subject after a moment, shifting in his seat.

“Sixteen members, ten wolves. The rest, including the Argent, are human. There’s also a veterinarian that’s supposed to be some kind of advisor. She wants us to take out the wolves, but any humans are off-limits.”

“And what does off-limits mean?” Martin lifted an eyebrow at his brother.

“That we can’t kill them,” William responded.

“I can work with that.”

“We can all work with that. Uh, she also mentioned something about some kind of magic freak. I don’t know much more than that, but she said he was to remain unharmed as far as possible.”

“And how far is as far as possible?”

“As long as he doesn’t die, I think we’re good.”

“I can work with that.”

William rolled his eyes. “Grab the map and find us a motel, would you? There’s bound to be one in this place somewhere.”

“Let’s hope it’s in a prime location. I could go for a beer.”

“You always go for a beer. Try to save it for when all the wolves are dead.”

“And you always say that,” Martin grumbled, as he unfolded the map he’d dug out of the glove compartment. “Hope you have a plan this time?”

“Don’t I always?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a shitty ending there, but I kind of just wanted to get this chapter done with.
> 
> I have no idea who William and Martin are. There's also supposed to be four hunters, maybe five? Guess I'll just figure it out as I go.
> 
> Chapter title comes from: [Shots](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMP2BsGoJNg).


	6. I Got No Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension is rising amongst the pack as the night of the next predicted disappearance approaches. Scott tries to remain positive while everyone else begins to feel the weight of helplessness. And Derek knows something the others don't.
> 
> Also, Dave makes an interesting discovery and Mera meets with her inside source. More tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, this chapter confirms, before it's officially confirmed, that the Darach has a hand in the disappearances - if you read the original version, then I'm sure you already knew this.
> 
> Things are beginning to pick up, I'm increasing the time skip between chapters, but only until the first body turns up - because, spoiler alert, there's going to be a body soon. Within the next few weeks within the timeline, because there's a timeline. I do have one, as vague as it is.
> 
> Rated T for swearing.

“Nine days since the last disappearance,” Lydia announced.

“And we’re still no closer to finding the missing people,” Allison added.

“Look on the bright side,” Scott replied. “No bodies.”

“Yet,” Derek murmured, staring hard at the picture of the triquetra. He felt sure he’d seen it somewhere recently, somewhere other than on a wall and in the police photos.

“That’s not the bright side, Derek,” Scott frowned at his fellow Alpha.

“He has a point, Scott,” Isaac interjected from the corner. “We don’t know anything. We don’t have any way to stop the bodies.”

“So you want us to just stand by and let it happen?”

“That’s not what he’s saying,” Allison soothed. “Derek and Isaac are just saying what we’re all thinking: it’s like a hopeless situation.”

“It’s never hopeless.”

“First of all, that’s not quite true,” Lydia cut in, somewhat darkly, “and second of all, they’re right. We have nothing to go on. How can we save them?”

Scott sighed. “I feel like I’m back in high school again. Except this time I’m even more clueless.”

Allison glanced around the room at everyone. “We’ll figure it out,” she said after a moment. “We always do. It’s our skill. Figuring it out in the nick of time.”

Scott smiled at her. “Exactly.”

“But what do you suggest we do?” Lydia asked. “We’ve been staring at the same evidence, the same symbol, the same notes for a month now? And we’re not getting anywhere.”

“Cora and Felix are still looking into the rituals,” Isaac said from across the room.

“That’s great, but once again, they’ve been at it for days, and they’ve got nothing. A symbol is too general a clue.”

There was a beat and then Allison cleared her throat.

“Time for lunch, I think.”

“Because that will make it all better,” Lydia sighed, but she started to pack up her notes anyway.

“We can come back to it with fresh eyes,” Scott said, but winced as he realized he’d been saying that a lot lately.

They slowly filed out the room, stretching and muttering vaguely to themselves. All except Derek, who was still staring hard at the picture of the triquetra. Scott stopped and glanced back, frowning in concern at his co-Alpha.

“Derek? Hey, you okay?”

“Huh?” the older man started slightly, looking around at Scott. “I’m fine, I just…This symbol feels really familiar that all.”

“Lydia said it was from the same family as the triskelion.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s more like I’ve seen it somewhere recently. Other than these photos.”

“How recently?” Scott perked up. Was it possible Derek had stumbled upon a new clue without even realizing?

“I don’t know, within the last few weeks? I just can’t figure it out.”

“Well, come have lunch,” Scott encouraged. “Maybe it’ll come back to you on a full stomach.”

“Maybe,” Derek agreed, somewhat doubtfully.

Scott smiled a little as he turned and headed for the door. Derek stared at the photo for a moment longer, before following.

* * *

“This is pointless.”

Cora lifted her eyes as Felix tossed the book down onto the table. “What’s pointless?”

“This,” he gestured at the piles of books they had surrounded themselves with.

“Research is not pointless. We’re doing this for Scott.”

“Doing what for Scott? Reading a bunch of books and getting nowhere?”

“We’re going to find something soon, Felix,” Cora put her own book down, frowning faintly. “We just have to keep looking.”

“Looking for what, though? A symbol? Cora, we could learn about every ritual performed ever in the history of the Earth and still be no closer to finding out what our ritual is.”

“It’s better than sitting around and doing nothing. That’s when bodies start turning up.”

“Come on, Cora. Bodies are going to turn up either way. We can’t stop it. We don’t know anything. How can we save people when we don’t even know why they were taken?”

“What do you suggest we do?”

“That’s my point, Cora. There’s nothing we can do.”

“I don’t believe that. And neither does Scott.”

Felix looked worried. “I know. And it’s great that you do. I just don’t think we can, or should, believe that this time.”

Cora glanced at him. “What’s up with you? You’re not usually so negative.”

“I’m preparing for the worst, okay? Because we’re going to find a body. How can we stop this person, Cora? All we have to go on is a fucking symbol and twelve days between each disappearance. There’s no connection between the victims, there’s no motive, there’s no suspects. What do you want us to do in three days’ time? Watch every single person in the damn city? There’s gotta be thousands.”

“I know,” Cora slumped down in her seat. “I felt so helpless the last time this happened. I hate feeling helpless again. I have to do something.”

“You’re not helpless,” Felix frowned at her.

“Aren’t I? I don’t have much of a wolf anymore, remember?”

“That’s not true. Deaton said it would come back one day.”

“But when?” Cora snapped. “It’s been eight years, Felix. And I’m still as weak as I was when Deaton cured me.”

Felix bit his lip, unsure what to say to that without sounding condescending or pitying. There was an awkward pause, which was broken by a series of thuds followed by a series of imaginative curse words.

Felix rolled his eyes, before heading around the shelves to help whoever had dropped all the books. Cora followed, recognizing the voice.

“Sorry,” Stiles winced when Felix bent to help him gather up the books. “Lost my balance.”

“It’s alright,” Felix nodded. “Are you planning on taking all of these?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m doing some research.”

“Into Celtic Ruins and Rituals?” Felix eyed some of the books.

“The triquetra is a Celtic symbol, as I’m sure you’re already aware.”

“Yeah, I-I used to study stuff like that when I was younger.”

“Oh, cool. So you know a lot about these things then?”

“Yeah, but I still like to read up on it from time to time. Keep in fresh in my mind. Why the triquetra in particular?”

“The disappearances,” Stiles responded, before glancing at his watch. “Look, dude, I’m kind of in a hurry. Mind if we…”

Felix nodded and gestured for the young man to go the desk first, glancing back at Cora as he did so. She shrugged, and he headed to help Stiles.

Cora sighed, leaning against the shelves.

Things were not looking good.

* * *

Stiles stopped by a small café – the same one his Dad had taken him to on the day he arrived back in town – on his way home to pick up some coffee.

There was some kid behind the counter, looking bored as hell, as he cleaned some cups. A werewolf, so no doubt one of Scott’s pack. He glanced up at Stiles but didn’t seem to react to his presence, other than readying himself behind the coffee machine.

“Hi, can I get one black coffee, four sugars, and the Sheriff’s usual?” Stiles asked, smiling slightly at the barista. It had been a nice to know his Dad had stuck with his diet, despite his act on the first day about drinking regular coffee.

Dave nodded, although he frowned faintly. Why was this guy picking up the Sheriff’s order?

He quickly made the drinks, continuously glancing at the guy, who was on his phone. Like many of his pack mates, he’d become suspicious of the people around him.

Anyone could be the Darach. They just had to be crazy enough.

Dave slid the coffees over the counter and Stiles reached to hand him the money. Dave’s heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of the triquetra tattoo on his left wrist.

Stiles seemed oblivious as he picked up the coffees and smiled at Dave before leaving. Dave stared after him, frowning harder.

That was no coincidence. Whoever this kid was, he was connected to the disappearances.

* * *

“Are you sure?” Felix asked when he came to pick up his order.

“He had the symbol tattooed on his wrist,” Dave passed the order over. “The same symbol scratched into the wall. That’s no coincidence.”

“Who was he?”

“No idea. But…he came in to pick up the Sheriff’s order.”

Felix raised his eyebrows. “So he’s a cop? A transfer maybe?”

“Wasn’t dressed for the job. Maybe it’s a ploy. Scoping out the next target.”

“You think Mr Stilinski might be next?”

“Anyone in this town could be next. That’s the problem.”

“Maybe he knows Mr Stilinski. Lot of people in this town do.”

“Well enough to buy him a coffee?”

Felix shrugged slowly. “I don’t think we should jump to conclusions just yet. Plenty of people have random symbols tattooed on their bodies. He probably thinks it’s cool or something like that. It’s like having random Chinese letters.”

“That’s pretty stupid,” Dave agreed after a moment. “So you think we should wait?”

“We could go around taking down everyone who has a triquetra tattoo and never find the Darach, or whoever’s taking people. One tattoo does not mean guilt. We don’t even know why he has the tattoo.”

Dave hesitated then nodded. “I suppose. Should we tell Scott?”

“Maybe not yet. Not until we’re sure it’s a real lead.”

Dave nodded again, although he was chewing on his lip. “I guess we can just keep an eye on the guy for a while. See what happens.”

Felix smiled a little, before waving goodbye and taking his coffee back to the library.

* * *

“It’s dangerous for us to meet like this.”

“It’s important,” Mera stepped out from the shadows of the trees. Jennifer had slipped away from the school during her lunchtime to meet the witch at the edge of the forest behind the building.

“Make it quick.”

Mera’s eyes flashed. The brusque manner of the dark Druid irritated her. “I’ve come to warn you. The heat is rising. Some days ago, a powerful magic user crossed into Beacon Hills.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “I thought y-we were powerful.”

“We are, of course, but not even the strongest magic can truly hide the soul. He will be watching you. He suspected you from the beginning and that will help him to see how dark your soul has become. You must be careful.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can, and that is what worries us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that your overconfidence could give the whole game away. You are our inside source. We would much prefer we keep it that way as long as possible.”

Jennifer narrowed her eyes. “Watch your tongue, Witch. I’m only standing here because you have something to offer me. I could easily reveal you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Only if you push me,” Jennifer responded dangerously.

Mera’s face darkened and Jennifer found herself slammed against a tree. “Listen here, Druid. Alix and I have been working on this resurrection for many years, and if you mess it up for us in any way, you will not just feel our wrath on this plane!” She relaxed and let the Darach go. “Do I make myself clear?”

Jennifer brushed herself down. “Crystal. I have a class to teach, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course,” Mera gestured for the woman to leave, watching her as she left.

Then she turned and left too.

* * *

Two days later, the peace of the preserve was shattered suddenly when a loud gunshot echoed through the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have plans for future chapters, that include blackmail, a phoenix or two and Kira Yukimura, and of course, a pile of bodies. Things are heating up, ha ha. And a confrontation is coming up within the next few chapters, between Stiles and Derek, which will lead into Stiles and Scott.
> 
> And the flashback chapter which explains what happened to the pack in the eight years Stiles was gone, will happen around the same time, hopefully.
> 
> Chapter title comes from: [Trouble](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rp_Xdv3MX3s).


	7. I Bet My Life On You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunters make their first move in Beacon Hills, with largely unexpected results. Stiles faces his first major obstacle since returning and discovers that he can't avoid the pack for as long as he'd hoped.
> 
> And the hunters come up with more plans against the pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might increase the word count for these chapters, because 2,000 words goes by pretty fast. I mean, I wrote this in a day, that's how short it is. Otherwise this thing could reach tens of chapters and that might be a bit much, even for me.
> 
> Plus, I'm struggling to put anything substantial for a chapter summary, and I'm pretty stubborn with how long I want the summaries to be.
> 
> But, ooh, things are definitely getting intense now.

Stiles pretty much hadn’t left his father’s house since the full moon, around eleven days ago.

He wasn’t going to admit that he was hiding, but honestly, he was hiding. He didn’t really want to face Scott or Derek or anyone in the pack if he didn’t have to.

But he was worried – about the city, about the sacrifices, about his old friends – and it was this worry that once again sent him searching for the Nemeton in the woods, trying to put his mind at ease. Easier said than done.

It was roughly noon as he stepped into the woods, moving leisurely between the trees. It was a nice day and Stiles wasn’t going to rush unless he had to.

As he walked though, he had the oddest feeling that he was being watched. And followed. He couldn’t sense anyone nearby with his magic, but they could very well be far enough away to be outside his reach.

He felt nervous as he headed further into the woods, and quickly changed tactic. Instead of heading towards the Nemeton, he simply wandered along just inside the edge of the forest.

And then he sensed something at the edge of his magic, as whoever was watching him started to approach slowly, trying to creep up on him, unaware that Stiles already knew he was there.

Whoever it was, they were human, which was something of a relief. Stiles relaxed and allowed the person to get a little closer, knowing he could probably handle them.

When the creeper was little more than a few feet away, he spun around to confront them, only to cry out at the explosion of pain that ripped through his shoulder when the person shot him with his damn shotgun. _Fucker_.

As Stiles was thrown back with the force of the blast, he was reminded, vaguely, of the time he’d once dreamed a premonition about falling from a great height and breaking his arm. It could have been referring to this moment, but he quickly dismissed it. This was not the same.

“What the fuck was that for?” he snapped, trying to regain his composure, as he squinted at his shooter. Or shooters, since there was two of them. Unless the pain was causing him to see double.

“You idiot,” one of them hissed. “What’d you go and shoot him for?”

The second shrugged (so definitely two). “Why not?”

“He’s not a werewolf.”

“He’s a sympathizer. What does it matter?”

“We have orders.”

“You said we can’t kill them. He’s not going to die from that.”

Engrossed in their argument, Stiles took the opportunity to wriggle away from the people with the guns – hunters, presumably – scrambling to his feet and running into the woods.

“Oh, fuck, now he’s getting away,” he heard one of them say as he vanished among the trees.

One hand on his gunshot wound, trying to stem the bleeding, he stumbled as quickly as he could through the preserve, trying to put as much distance between him and the hunters. The thudding footsteps he could quite easily hear told him it wasn’t working so well.

His feet kept getting caught in roots, and he was having a hard time coordinating his path. The pain was really throwing him off.

“I can see him,” a voice shouted from behind. “Fucking kid.”

“Whatever you do, don’t kill him,” the other responded.

Well, that was reassuring, Stiles thought as he ran. At least he wasn’t going to die anytime soon. His breathing was getting ragged, his vision beginning to blur. He didn’t have a chance at outrunning these guys, no matter how much he pushed himself.

Just his luck for his foot to get tangled in yet another root, and send him flying to the ground.

Angling himself to land on his right side, he landed with a grunt and took a few seconds to re-orient himself.

Just enough time for the gun-raving lunatics to catch up.

“You ain’t no gingerbread man, that’s for sure,” one of them snickered.

“Really?” the other one raised his eyebrows. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“What, you’ve never heard the rhyme before?” 

Stiles slowly started to shuffle away, until the one with the pistol, not the shotgun, aimed it at him.

“Don’t move. I’ve heard the-that’s not the point.”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Stiles muttered, “just bleeding to death in the forest here.”

“Oh, don’t be over-dramatic,” shotgun-guy rolled his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you a doctor?” Stiles snarked back.

“Shut the fuck up,” pistol guy interrupted, “can’t you see we’re having a conversation?”

“Oh, yes, how rude of me to point out my life-threatening injury while you’re arguing about a fucking nursery rhyme.”

“Do you want me to make it life-threatening?”

“Easy, brother,” shotgun-guy soothed, “we can’t kill them, remember?”

Pistol-guy snorted. “Count yourself fucking lucky, kid. If you weren’t being protected, we would have you strung up by now.”

“Why, cause I’m a werewolf-sympathizer?”

“If it wasn’t that, it’d be your fucking magic, ya freak.”

Stiles paled further than he already had from his injury. How did they know about that?

His sleeve was sticking to his arm with the blood he’d already lost. He didn’t think he had the strength to attempt to make another escape, and along with that, he also didn’t have the power to use his magic. Not that he liked using it on other people, but in situations like this he would be willing to make an exception. Not that he could this time.

“So what _are_ you going to do with me?”

The two guys glanced at each other then shrugged. “Bait.”

Stiles bit his lip, pushing himself into a better position. Dirt was squashed into his hair, and his clothes were ruffled from the running and the falling. As far as he could tell, the bleeding from his shoulder wound had not slowed at all.

“Our source says you’re connected to the werewolves in this city,” pistol-guy dragged him to his feet. “So I’m sure they’ll come running just in time for us to turn them to dust.”

Stiles frowned, forcing himself to reach deep down for his magic, willing any energy to turn into fire or air or even healing.

“There aren’t any werewolves in town who would come to my rescue,” he said, his eyes beginning to droop with the effort to connect to his magic. “So you’re wasting your time.”

“We’ll see about that,” pistol-guy sneered, giving Stiles a not-so-gentle shove forward.

Stiles was beginning to think this was a helpless situation, until shotgun-guy was suddenly on the ground with a dark figure on top of him.

It took Stiles a few moments to realize that Derek, of all people, had come to help him.

“Aren’t you a teacher?” he asked somewhat slurring, trying to figure out why Derek as the one who’d come to help him. Derek glanced at him, vaguely confused, before grabbing the guy with the pistol and tossing him into a nearby tree.

Leaving the two hunters stunned on the ground, he quickly moved to Stiles’ side and helped him walk away from the hunters.

“We should get you to a hospital,” he said.

“But you’re a teacher,” Stiles frowned again. “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching?”

“Day off,” Derek replied, somewhat vaguely.

But Stiles didn’t have any time to press the matter, because that was when he passed out.

* * *

“Sorry about bleeding over your car.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek replied. Surprisingly he’d stuck around after bringing Stiles to the hospital. He’d even called his Dad, although, in hindsight, that was somewhat less surprising.

“I’ll, uh, pay for it to be cleaned,” Stiles offered. Derek, interestingly enough, had gone back to driving a nice black Camaro with leather seats of all things. Matched the leather jacket he seemed to be wearing these days.

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek repeated. “How’s your shoulder feeling now?”

“Uh, better,” Stiles touched it gently. His arm was going to be in a sling for a while. The painkillers were beginning to kick in. “Thanks for, um bringing me here.”

Stiles would be the first to admit that this was awkward. Derek didn’t seem particularly inclined to say anything and Stiles was at a loss for a comfortable topic that he could talk about.

“How’d you know I’m a teacher?” Derek asked suddenly.

“My Dad told me,” Stiles replied.

“Oh.”

Silence stretched on until…

“At least you kept in contact with him.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that at least you didn’t abandon him too, like you did Scott.”

Stiles rubbed his forehead. “I’m really not in the mood for this.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think so.”

“Besides, I don’t think you have any right to give me that attitude. You have no idea why I left.”

“So why did you?”

Stiles hesitated then looked considered carefully Derek. “Well, that’s all thanks to you.”

Derek looked caught off-guard by that reply, but before he could say anything in response, John Stilinski burst into the room.

“Stiles, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’m fine, I promise,” Stiles stood up to give his Dad a hug. “Thanks to Derek.”

John nodded at the Alpha in gratitude before turning back to Stiles. “What happened out there?”

“Hunters. Presumably after the local pack.”

“So why’d they go after you?” Derek asked.

“Because werewolves and werewolf sympathizers are all the same to them.”

John hugged his son once more. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Dad, honestly. Give it a week or so and it’ll be like it never happened.”

Derek snorted faintly in the corner, disbelievingly. Stiles was no werewolf.

“Anyway, thanks again, Derek, and I will pay to get your car cleaned, I swear,” Stiles said, as he and his Dad turned to leave.

“I already told you not to,” Derek cut himself off as they left the room. He sighed and pulled out his phone to call Scott.

* * *

“Aren’t you supposed to be at working?” Scott asked when Derek came to see him.

“It’s my day off,” Derek responded irritably. “That’s not important right now.”

Scott looked worried as he gestured for Derek to enter. “What’s up?”

“There are hunters in town.”

Scott stilled. “How’d you know?”

Derek hesitated. “Uh, Stiles was shot by one.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’ll live, at least.”

Scott relaxed a little. “Chris didn’t say anything about hunters. Are you sure?”

“Well, they called Stiles a werewolf sympathizer. But I didn’t really stick around to ask them.”

“I’ll talk to Allison when she gets off work then. Maybe her dad heard something or knows who these guys are.”

“I’ll go spread the word through the rest of the pack.”

“Be careful then,” Scott replied, showing Derek to the door. “I’ll let you know what turns up with Chris later.”

Derek nodded and then left, his thoughts turning to the unknown hunters in the territory.

As if they didn’t have enough problems.

* * *

“I still can’t believe you shot him,” William snapped as he cleaned his gun.

“Well, if you’d told me he was the one the witch wanted, maybe I wouldn’t have.”

“Don’t put this on me, you’re the one with the itchy trigger finger.”

Martin shrugged. “Either way, it worked out for us.”

“How? How _exactly_ did it work out for us? We shot the Sheriff’s kid and now the wolves know we’re here.”

“Look on the bright side. Now we know how to bait them.”

William sighed and rolled his eyes. “Wonderful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martin is the one who shot Stiles, just to clarify. And the rhyme they were referring to is:  
> "Run, run  
> as fast as you can  
> you can't catch me  
> I'm the Gingerbread Man."
> 
> Chapter title comes from: [I Bet My Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ATzReD4f6A).


	8. Hopeless Opus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night of the next disappearance and someone's gone missing too early. Scott's tense, Cora's frustrated and Felix has his own opinions. Stiles and Derek talk a lot. The hunters make their next move, following someone else's plan.
> 
> Stiles expands on his travels a little and Derek makes a startling choice. Not everyone agrees with all the decisions that are being made. More tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started coming up with an idea, based off of this fanfic, about the rewrite of _#1 Teen Detective Agency_. Might start low-key working on that but I definitely want to get through this first. Also looked over _I Don't Belong Here_ and had a few ideas about _True Identity_ too. One of them, I might turn into a quick one shot - I wouldn't be able to flesh it out enough for the new version, and I also don't like that idea as much as I like the others.
> 
> Upped the word count to 3,000 words per chapter. That should be a substantial amount to get enough done without struggling, on the story or on the summary. Let's just see how it goes from here. I did struggle a little on this chapter, but that might be because my attention was somewhere else, and also because nothing's happening in the story right now.
> 
> You might have also noticed that I updated the tags: they'll start to make sense as the story unfolds, but some I will mention in chapter notes, if I feel you should watch out for them (such as the Violence and the Character Death).
> 
> I've realized that some of the story might be confusing, like Stiles' magic and some of the new characters. I am going to lead up to a few chapters - hopefully soon - that will cover everything that happened in the eight years Stiles was gone; for both the pack and Stiles.

Scott had been restless all day and it was beginning to get on Lydia’s nerves.

“Will you stop pacing already?”

“Sorry, I can’t help it. I’m worried.”

“I can tell. Please sit down.”

Scott sighed and lowered himself into a seat opposite Lydia. “Sorry.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?”

“Deaton sent me home. Said all I was doing was agitating the cats.”

Lydia snorted. “That’s not hard for you to do, what with being a werewolf and all.”

“Yeah, but…all the animals were hyped today. I mean, more than usual. It was weird. Almost like they knew what today was.”

“Disappearance number four,” Lydia said gently.

“Yeah. And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

“Well, that’s assuming my theory is correct about the twelve days. I could just be seeing patterns where there are none.”

Scott leveled her with a skeptical look. “It’s too late for coincidences.”

“Yeah, I guess. Look, maybe we can’t stop them disappearing, but we can try to find them before anything happens to them.”

“Lydia, everyone was right. This is hopeless. How can we save them? We don’t know anything.”

Once again, they were back at this conversation. Nothing to go on but a damn symbol. Except this time Scott was losing hope and Lydia was the one trying to cheer him up.

“Okay, let’s focus on something we can deal with then. The hunters. What did Chris say?”

“He doesn’t know anything about it but he’d going to talk to Derek, and Stiles to see if he can figure out who they are.”

There was a pause.

“Stiles, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“How are you feeling about that?” Lydia asked gently. “I know it can’t be easy.”

Scott shrugged a little. “I guess it’s not so bad right now because I haven’t seen him, haven’t spoken to him or anything. I can just pretend everything’s like it was before he came back.”

Lydia nodded softly. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but…if you do, well, you have a whole pack to listen.”

Scott smiled at her. “Thanks, Lydia.”

* * *

Stiles startled and dropped the carton of milk when he turned around in his kitchen and found Derek lurking in the doorway

“Son-of-a,” he glared at the wolf. “What the hell, dude?”

Really, he was more annoyed at himself for not sensing Derek there in the first place, but his empathy – his ability to sense his surroundings – had been pretty much switched off since he’d been shot; all his energy was going into healing from the injury.

Milk seeped into his socks a little and he redirected his glare to the floor where a puddle of the liquid was spreading over the floor.

“You can pay me for that,” he muttered, stepping across the kitchen to grab the paper towels.

“Chris Argent is here,” Derek said, just watching him.

“Wonderful. Do you want me to pick up a jug of orange juice in preparation for his lurking in the doorway?” Stiles snarked, feeling somewhat grumpy. He hadn’t been up for long, despite it being late in the afternoon.

“He wants to talk to you about the hunters.”

That caught his attention. “What does he want to know?”

“Who they are,” Chris Argent supplied from behind Derek.

“Oh, yes, because in the middle of shooting me and threatening my life, they formally introduced themselves. Even decided to divulge their plan to me as well.”

“Try to be serious here, Stiles.”

“I’m being as serious as I can on pain meds. Since I got shot. By hunters.”

Derek shrugged loosely at Chris.

“What did they look like?”

“Uh, one was slightly taller than the other, they had dark hair, dirty clothes, biker boots, guns.”

“What did they say? Do?”

“Well, they shot me and called me a werewolf sympathizer. Also mentioned something about using me as bait to lure out the wolves.”

“As most hunters would do,” Derek murmured.

Stiles hesitated. “There was something. They mentioned something about being ordered not to kill me.”

“By who?” Chris asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Don’t know. Didn’t get a chance to ask them.”

“Alright,” Chris nodded. “I’ll take a look into it. Not many hunters will also kill, or attempt to at least, human pack mates, so that’ll narrow it down.”

Stiles frowned at his words. “Great. Are we done then?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know what I find out. Be careful out there. Both of you.”

Stiles waved with his good hand as Chris turned and headed back out. He decided not to ask about how the hunter or Derek had gotten in. They probably had keys.

Speaking of, Derek was lingering. Looking at him.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Eh, not so bad. I mean, it hurts. But I can manage. Is everything alright?”

“I was just…yesterday, at the hospital…”

“You want to know what I meant when I said it was because of you.”

The werewolf nodded.

“Oh, well, it’s not bad, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I just want to know.”

“Well, it’s…the day before I left, we had a big pack gathering. The last thing I remember any of you saying to me was…‘ _Not a lot of your theories are_ ’. I didn’t hear anything after that.”

“I remember,” Derek nodded. “We were talking about the Darach.”

“Yeah,” Stiles leaned against the counter, scratching lightly at his shoulder. “Something about the way you said that made me realize that…I didn’t belong here. There.”

“Scott didn’t think that.”

“Yeah, I know. I looked around that room and realized the only one who would give a shit about my leaving would be Scott. No one else cared enough.”

For a moment, Stiles stopped, wondering why he was telling Derek this, when he was supposed to be avoiding the pack.

“People cared, Stiles.”

Stiles shrugged. “The only reason I ever got to know Lydia was because of Scott. I had a crush on her for years and yet the only reason we spoke was because of Scott. People cared about _Scott_.”

“That’s not Scott’s fault. Or Lydia’s.

“I’m not saying it was,” Stiles replied, frowning at the werewolf.

“And it doesn’t explain why you left.”

“I left because I wasn’t needed.”

“Scott needed you.”

“Scott _wanted_ me, there’s a difference. He didn’t need me. Not when he had you and Allison and Lydia and Isaac.”

Derek didn’t say anything for a moment. Stiles sighed.

“I didn’t mean to hurt Scott when I left. But if I’d gone to say goodbye or anything, he would have convinced me to stay and that would have been worse.”

“Would it?” Derek asked.

Stiles hesitated, considering. “Yes. A lot. Lydia, Allison, you, it all would have come crashing down. I wanted things I couldn’t get. I would have left anyway in the end, just on worse terms.”

Derek was doing the stupid stoic thing as he watched Stiles clean up the mess in the kitchen. “You could have stayed.”

“Not without doing something stupid,” Stiles responded. Various examples flitted through his mind, most them concerning the Darach, Derek and Deaton. “Why do you care anyway?”

“I’m asking for Scott.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Stiles replied, glancing at him.

Derek hesitated. “Maybe I’m curious as to why you left. Why you left Scott.”

Stiles shrugged. “What does it matter anymore? It happened, didn’t it, and knowing why won’t change that.”

Derek nodded. “I should go. I need to check in with the others before tonight.”

Tonight was the night of the fourth disappearance. His Dad had told him that they’d worked out a timeline, counting twelve days between each disappearance.

_“You’ve been around,” he’d said at the time. “Anything significant about twelve?”_

_“Lots of things,” Stiles had shrugged. “Twelve is a prominent number in our culture.”_

“Well,” Stiles said back in the present, “good luck. And, uh, be careful. Dad says there’s no telling who the next target could be.”

Derek glanced at him with an unreadable expression. “You too.”

Somewhat caught off guard by the return of the sentiment, Stiles only nodded.

And Derek left.

* * *

“Any sign of that guy with the tattoo?” Felix asked Dave when he went to pick up his daily coffee.

“No, not since that first day,” Dave pushed the order across the counter. “Doesn’t mean he isn’t still around. I’m going to keep an eye on the Sheriff tonight.”

Felix sighed and shook his head. “Tonight is a horrible idea.”

“So you don’t think we should be stopping the kidnappings?”

“I’m not saying that. I just…First of all, we’re running all over the city when we don’t even know what to look for. We’re chasing our tails over this.”

“It’s better than doing nothing.”

“Is it?” Felix asked. “I don’t know, what if the kidnapper takes someone and ends up leaving a clue behind about who they are. Isn’t that a worthwhile sacrifice?”

“That’s something you’d have to talk to Scott about. How’s Cora?”

“Uh, not good lately. She doesn’t…She’s not feeling great about her lack of wolf.”

Dave nodded. It was a regular feeling for Cora. Sometimes she felt like she could handle it, but other times, she struggled to see the point. That’s why Deaton had recommended that she start seeing Morell, in order to talk about it.

“I gotta get to work. See you later.”

Dave nodded again and turned to tend to another customer.

* * *

When night fell that night, the pack was gathered, humans, werewolves and all. Well, most of them. Melissa was working until late, and Chris was working at his house. Peter, of course, had a habit of not being around most of the time, but he’d never officially joined the pack so it wasn’t a concern. Jennifer had elected to stay home. The Sheriff had managed to turn up though.

Scott looked around the room and wondered, briefly, what it would be like if Stiles was here. Then he frowned, trying to figure out where that thought had come from.

Derek was talking lowly with Cora in the corner. She’d insisted on being here, even if she was stuck driving around town rather than running with the rest of the werewolves. The Sheriff had offered to ride with her, but Cora had turned him down.

There was a harsh edge about her right now, but no one blamed her for it. She was frustrated about how little she could help. They were all frustrated.

“So what exactly is the plan?” Felix asked. “Run around town until dawn, hoping that we might be lucky enough to just run into whoever’s taking people?”

“Unless you have a better plan?” Scott raised his eyebrows at his beta. Felix and Dave exchanged a glance.

“No,” Felix shook his head.

“Can you guys really last that long?” Lydia asked worriedly. “I mean, it’s winter. It could be over twelve hours until dawn.”

“Mom’s bringing supplies once she’s finished her shift, to keep us energized for as long as possible,” Scott assured.

“And what about the hunters?” Allison asked.

“What does your Dad say?”

“He thinks they might be the Mourning brothers, William and Martin. They’re known for their violent, unpredictable tendencies. They kill werewolves unprovoked and will usually take down any human pack mates too, for being werewolf sympathizers.”

“Sounds like fun,” Lydia sighed.

“Why would they go after people too?” Dave asked.

“Because they support werewolves,” Allison replied. “These guys are basically trying to eradicate any evidence of werewolves from Earth. That includes people who can spread stories.”

“Human Alphas,” Derek added after a moment.

There was a beat of silence.

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked.

“It’s rare,” Derek shrugged. “Rarer than you but…humans can become Alphas. They’d be trying to prevent that in any situation. Human Alphas can produce werewolf children.”

“Wait, really?” Lydia sat forward in interest.

“It’s complicated. I don’t think anyone’s actually sure of how it works, to be honest.”

“Probably the same way the full moon can cause you to transform,” Lydia shrugged.

Scott looked around the room, with a frown, suddenly realizing something was wrong, and cursing himself for not realizing sooner.

“Scott, what’s wrong?” Isaac picked up on the concern and everyone else in the room fell quiet, turning to look at one of their Alphas. Scott was glancing around, his worry increasing as he understood exactly what was wrong.

“Where’s Sammy?”

* * *

Sammy stumbled into the small, unfurnished room. “What do you want from me?”

Martin slammed the door behind her and locked it. “Don’t see why we can’t just kill the bitch.”

“We need bait,” William replied. “We’re supposed to draw them out. This pack’s too dangerous to go charging in.”

“We’ve taken out plenty of packs like this.”

“We have never taken out one with two Alphas before.”

Martin shrugged. “Twice the fun, I say.”

William rolled his eyes. “Until you get us killed by a couple of werewolves who could then go on to take over Beacon Hills.”

“Maybe it won’t get us killed if you’d taken the time to think your plan through,” Martin pointed out. “Like you usually do.”

“I didn’t think about this one because we’re not going to kill them tonight. That witch just wanted us to distract them.”

“And that’s another thing. When did we start taking orders from one of the freaks of magic?”

“When that freak of magic started paying us to kill some werewolves.”

“Even though we’re not going to kill them tonight?”

“We’re not prepared yet. We’re just going to distract them for now.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” William shrugged. “I didn’t ask. And to be honest, I don’t really care. All I know is we’re getting paid. And we have a chance to check out just how powerful this pack really is.”

“Whatever you say, brother,” Martin shrugged. A series of bangs came from the locked door they were standing at. Martin banged back and they stopped.

“Come on,” William jerked his head. “We didn’t do anything to hide her scent. We don’t wanna be here when the pack shows up to save her.”

* * *

“Alright, Allison, Isaac, Felix? I want you guys to help me find Sammy,” Scott directed. “The rest of you stick to the plan. Fan out across the city, keep an eye out for anything unusual.”

“I’ll call my Dad,” Allison offered.

“Let’s go then,” Scott led his group towards the door. “I’ll call you if I find anything.”

Derek nodded in response. “Same here.”

Everything fell quiet for a few moments, except for Allison talking a little on her phone, as the small group filed out. Before Derek could talk to the rest of them, the Sheriff was pulling out his phone and moving to corner for an illusion privacy in a room of werewolves.

His call was answered on the first ring.

“Yo, Dad, what’s up?” Stiles’ voice said.

“Hey, Stiles. I could use your help. I mean, we could.”

“Uh, sure, I guess. What’s going on?”

“There’s been a slight change in plan for tonight. We could use your empath abilities, or whatever it is, to help us out in tonight.”

There was a pause. “I don’t know, Dad, not sure if I’ve got the energy for it. I’m still trying to heal from the gunshot.”

“Okay, son,” John sighed. “That’s alright. Go back to sleep, I’ll check in later.”

“No, wait,” Stiles cut in. He hesitated. “I’ll do it. I mean, I’ll try. But I’m going to need someone to drive me around the city.”

“I’ll do it,” Derek inexplicably volunteered, startling the Sheriff and reminding him that there were other people, other _werewolves_ , in the room that could hear his conversation. Derek seemed startled too, perhaps at the…eagerness of his words.

“Are you sure?” the Sheriff craned around to look at the Alpha.

(In the background, Dave was looking mostly confused by the exchange. “Who’s Stiles?” he whispered to Ethan, but he only received a brief head shake in response.)

“Yeah,” Derek replied after the tiniest beat, figuring it was too late to back out. “If he can help us, then I don’t mind.”

“But, that means that only Ethan and I are going to be running through the city,” Dave cut in.

“And Aiden,” Lydia suddenly added. “I can drive by myself tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Aiden asked.

“The more of us we have splitting up, the better,” she replied. “I’ll be in a car, it’s fine.”

There were nods around the group, even though Lydia still looked concerned and Dave was clearly confused about what was happening.

“I guess that settles it then,” the Sheriff said.

* * *

“I can honestly say I was surprised that it was you who was driving me around,” Stiles said, after Derek had been driving him around in silence for a while.

“Would you prefer someone else?” Derek asked.

“I didn’t say that, I just didn’t think you’d be the one volunteering. I thought it’d be my Dad.”

“Well, you’re stuck with me.”

Stiles didn’t say anything for a moment. “Well, I’d rather be stuck with you than anyone else right now. Except my Dad.”

Derek figured that was a compliment. “Can you…sense anything yet?”

“No,” Stiles shook his head. “It’s fading in and out. My body is trying to heal itself, so that’s where all my energy is.” He hesitated. “So, um, I have magic.”

“I figured,” Derek replied dryly.

“Just thought you might have questions, that’s all.”

“Would you answer them if I asked?”

“Depends on the question.”

Derek thought about that for a moment. “What kind of magic can you do?”

“Lots,” Stiles answered simply, before expanding, “I can manipulate the elements. I can see the past, the present, the future, things under the surface. Offensive magic, defensive magic, a few other things.”

“Are you powerful?”

“In some circles, yes. Depends on who you ask.”

Derek glanced at him. “Why magic?”

Stiles shrugged lightly. “Runs in the family. My mother…she was a witch like me.”

“So that’s what you were doing while you were gone. Learning magic.”

“Yeah. I’m not the only one learning new things though, apparently, Mr Full Wolf.”

For a moment, Derek was confused as to how Stiles knew that he had achieved a full transformation, before remembering that he’d been there in the woods on the night of the last full moon, and that they’d run into each other.

“Any luck?” he asked instead.

“Maybe,” Stiles suddenly sounded exhausted, and when Derek looked at him, he’d paled drastically from his last glance.

“What the fuck? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just…sensed something and pushed too hard. My shoulder feels like it’s on fire.”

Derek decelerated enough to feel safe enough to drive one handed and reached across to take away some of Stiles’ pain.

“Take the next right,” Stiles relaxed a little under Derek’s hand. “I think it’s that way.”

Derek eased around the corner. Stiles closed his eyes, focusing hard.

“Stop,” he said a few seconds later, and Derek braked. They were outside a small apartment building, around five floors high.

“Any idea which apartment?”

Stiles snorted, his hands shaking a little as he unbuckled himself. “Sorry, not right now. Guess we’ll just take the stairs.”

“Elevator,” Derek corrected, seeing the younger man’s unsteadiness as he climbed out the car. “You look exhausted, Stiles.”

“The price of magic,” he replied. “I eat a lot more than I used to, to keep my energy up.”

Derek nodded. “Come on, we should hurry.”

Derek let Stiles lean on him slightly as they headed into the building. The younger man looked like he was going to fall asleep any second.

“I think we should go up,” he said after a moment, as Derek pressed the button for the elevator. “Call it a hunch but I think we should go up.”

Derek nodded, guiding him into the elevator. Stiles leaned against the side with a yawn.

Derek hit the buttons for each floor, checking them one by one, but it wasn’t until they reached the top floor that Stiles reacted.

Without waiting for Derek, he suddenly bolted from the elevator, heading for the apartment at the other end of the corridor. Derek went after him, taken aback by the sudden energy the boy was expressing, as he banged on the door.

“Stiles,” he grabbed his wrist. “You’ll hurt yourself like that.”

“We need to get in there,” Stiles rattled the handle with his other hand.

Derek stilled him and listened for any signs of life on the other side of the walls. “I don’t think there’s anyone in there.”

“Do you think they’ve been taken?”

“They could just be out,” Derek replied. “They could be at a friend’s, they could be working late, they could be out clubbing. We have no idea.”

“But…then why am I sensing the energy?”

“You said earlier,” Derek ran his hands over the door, “you can see the future. Maybe this person is going to be taken, just not yet.”

Stiles frowned. “I am really too tired to understand what you said there. But I don’t think so. My empath abilities and my foresight are two different powers.”

“Let’s just get inside and find out, okay?” Derek assured him. “I’m going to kick it open, so stand back, alright?”

Stiles stepped back. “You’re going to pay for that, right?”

Derek smiled slightly before kicking the door open. They both hesitated to see if anyone would come to investigate the noise but when nothing happened, Stiles pushed into the apartment. Derek followed a moment later.

Stiles ran through the rooms, looking for any sign of a person living there.

“I told you, they’re probably out somewhere,” Derek started to say before he bumped into Stiles at the doorway to the bedroom.

“No, Derek,” Stiles was staring at a giant triquetra carved into the wall, “we're too late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can probably blame Derek's wolf for some of his decisions in this chapter. More to come on that later - it relates to the whole 'animals all agitated' thing that Scott was talking about.
> 
> This isn't the greatest chapter but it got the job done. And it actually ended up being over three and a half thousand words.
> 
> Chapter title comes from: [Hopeless Opus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGnTR_oEFt4).
> 
> Another side note: guys, seriously, comment. I feed on those. I love comments. Constructive criticism, questions, praise, point out mistakes, whatever. I love that stuff. Plus if you ask the right questions, I might be able to avoid plot holes.


	9. The Darkness Will Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and John are unnecessarily worried about Stiles. Scott and the pack search for Sammy, while discussing the hunters' movements. The pack quota of one coincidence a day is easily met and there may be more to Sammy's abduction than meets the eye at first.
> 
> A confrontation is on the horizon for Scott and Stiles, as the latter tries to recover from his earlier magic use. The Sheriff will have to restock his cupboards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has literally reduced me to tears. I mean, I was literally in tears about this chapter a few nights ago, but I don't wanna talk about it right now.
> 
> But basically, this was supposed to up a few days ago but it wasn't - due to various reasons that I really don't want to talk about - but I really do apologize for the delay. As a matter of fact, I almost stopped writing this but I didn't because I'm stronger than that. Good news is, though, I now have a new laptop.

Stiles had to sit down in the kitchen for a few minutes. He was looking very pale and tired, so much so that Derek was actually worried about him.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, looking the younger man over. He was massaging his shoulder a little.

“Yeah, I’ll just need to sleep for three days or so,” he attempted a weak smile, but ended up yawning instead.

“Magic takes a lot of you, huh?” Derek pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call your Dad. Let him know what’s happened.”

Stiles nodded, closing his eyes. Derek dialed the Sheriff, and updated him on what had happened. Neither of them had heard from Scott yet and Derek elected not to tell him anything just yet. At least not until they were all back together.

Stiles looked – and sounded – like he’d fallen asleep at the kitchen table, but he opened his eyes when Derek moved to wake him up.

“We should get you home,” he suggested. Stiles nodded slowly, blinking blearily at the werewolf. Derek eased him up out of the seat. There was nothing they could do anymore; the Darach – it was pretty much set in stone that they were back – had taken who’d they’d come for.

“We should figure out who was taken,” Stiles said, pushing himself up. “Maybe it’ll help uncover a pattern we haven’t seen yet.”

Derek reached out to steady him. “We’ll figure that out later. I’d rather not carry you home.”

“Stuff dreams are made of,” Stiles mumbled, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Derek looked at him for a moment, confused, but didn’t say anything in response, as he guided Stiles out of the apartment and towards the elevator.

Outside, the Sheriff was pulling up, closely followed by Cora. Stiles blinked at her, not remembering Derek calling his sister, but then he realized that his Dad must have called her.

“Hey,” his Dad hurried over to take his weight off of Derek. Stiles hadn’t realized how much he’d been leaning on the older man and he mumbled an apology.

“So we were too late,” Cora’s voice cut through the dark. “Again.”

“We tried, Cora,” Derek replied, reaching to soothe her.

“Clearly not very well,” she snapped. “Scott was counting on us. We failed him.”

“Cora, relax, okay?” Derek tried again.

“What time is it?” Stiles suddenly asked. He was glancing around, looking a little more awake.

“It’s a little after one, why?” John asked.

“It’s just…a hunch,” Stiles replied with a loose shrug.

“A hunch you couldn’t have had earlier?” Cora folded her arms but let out a breath. “Sorry, it’s not your fault.”

_Or is it?_

Stiles blinked. “I think I should go home. I’m falling asleep on my feet.”

“You look it,” Cora agreed, glaring at her brother when he elbowed her. Stiles chuckled slightly, unoffended, and headed towards his Dad’s car.

“Any word on Sammy?” Derek asked.

John shook his head. “I called Lydia though, and she let the twins know. They’re going to find Scott, offer back-up if it’s needed.”

“I’ll head that way too. Nothing else we can do here.”

“Cora, do you mind driving Stiles back to my house? I need to call this in.”

Cora hesitated then took the keys. “Okay. I’ll swap you,” she handed him the keys to her own car. 

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

The Sheriff nodded and Derek retreated to his own car, intent of catching up with Scott.

* * *

“Anything?”

“No. I have her scent but it just seems to be leading around in circles.”

Allison chewed her lip, tapping her fingers incessantly against the steering wheel. She was driving her car around the city, acting as messenger between the three wolves, who’d split up in order to widen the search area.

“If you have her scent, then it means they got sloppy,” she said after a moment. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Except for the part where her scent is going round in circles,” Scott replied with a frown.

Allison drummed her fingers against the wheel again. “Maybe we’re missing something. Is it possible her scent leads off somewhere? Maybe it’s not as strong as what you can smell now and that’s why you haven’t noticed it.”

“Maybe,” Scott agreed, but he clearly didn’t believe that. “Or maybe these hunters aren’t as sloppy as they seem.”

“A wild goose chase,” Allison said, craning around to look out the back of her car as headlights appeared in her rearview mirror. “Derek’s here.”

Derek pulled up at the corner and quickly climbed out, hurrying over to where Scott and Allison were having a conversation through the driver side window.

“How’s it going?”

“Not well,” Scott sighed. “You?”

Derek winced slightly at the tone of hopefulness that edged the younger man’s voice. “Uh, no, it’s…Someone else has been taken.”

Scott’s face dropped. “Of course. It was too much to ask that something go right, wasn’t it?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Derek assured, dropping his hand onto Scott’s shoulder. “Let’s just focus on finding Sammy. I can smell her scent.”

“Doesn’t lead anywhere,” Allison spoke up. “At least, it just seems to go round in circles.”

Derek frowned. “And she’s not anywhere around here?”

“Not as far as I can tell, anyhow.”

Derek nodded thoughtfully. “Well, maybe you could try something else.”

“What?”

“Your Alpha instincts,” Derek replied. “Every good Alpha has them. How you sense your pack and know when something’s wrong.”

“Can I really use them to find Sammy? I didn’t think they worked like that.”

“They can,” Derek nodded. “It’s tricky, though, requires a lot of concentration. You need to really focus on her and you should feel a pull in a certain direction. It can be tiring though.”

Scott glanced at Allison, who was keeping an eye out for Isaac or the twins. “I’ll do it.”

Derek nodded. “While you do that, the rest of us will keep tracking the scent.”

Scott nodded too, glancing at Allison again who smiled at him encouragingly. He took a deep breath. “Just got to focus on her,” he muttered to himself.

He closed his eyes and thought about his beta. Sammy had been abandoned by her old pack for being ‘weak’ and had stumbled into Beacon Hills by accident. She’d tried to kill Scott in an attempt to prove how strong she was, only to submit to him instead and join the McHale pack.

Since, she’d learnt that, not only was she strong, but that strength wasn’t everything.

It took a moment or two, but the more Scott thought about his pack mate and how much he wanted to find her, the more he tapped into his instincts, and he felt a slight tug in one direction. He focused on that and it got a little stronger.

“Anything?” Allison asked softly.

“Yeah,” Scott said with a frown. “Can you drive?”

“Sure,” Allison replied, and Scott fumbled to climb in the car with his eyes closed. He took a second to feel the pull again, like Derek had said, then nodded. “Just follow the road.”

* * *

When Derek, who’d gone to alert the other available wolves to the situation, returned to Scott and Allison, he found them quite a few streets away from where he’d left them.

As Scott steadily got closer to his pack mate, he started to pick her scent up again, as the pull towards her strengthened. They must have been right about the hunters trying to lead them off by circling her scent around.

“I’m picking her up,” he informed Allison, lowering the window, so he could smell her better.

“Is she close?” Allison asked, glancing in the rearview mirror where she could see Derek and Isaac weaving along the road, right behind the car. Eight years and it was still…weird.

“She’s closer,” Scott replied. “But her scent is pretty weak. They didn’t cover it up, though.”

“Should we expect a trap? Or an ambush?”

Scott hesitated. “I’d like to say we just got lucky, but either way, we should be careful.”

Allison nodded. “At least they haven’t done anything to Sammy. You would have felt it, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so. Alpha instincts, apparently. Go left.”

Allison complied, her eyes scanning the streets. This part of town had more abandoned buildings than occupied ones, so it was pretty much the perfect place to hold someone captive for a few hours.

“Alright, she's on this street,” Scott said after a moment. “Pull over here. We'll go on foot.”

Allison nodded, slowing to a stop and pulling over to the curb. Derek and Isaac slowed down too, as Scott climbed out of the car. Allison reached into the back seat to grab her bow and arrow before following.

“Can you sense her?” Derek asked, moving to meet Scott.

“Yeah, she's nearby,” Scott looked up and down the road they were on. “Can you?”

“A little, cause I'm an Alpha of the pack,” Derek replied. “But I'm not her Alpha. That's you.”

“I thought you were both our Alphas,” Isaac said, glancing between the two.

“Sort of. It's a bit complicated, really. Scott's the true Alpha of this pack. I am an Alpha but even I would submit to Scott, if I was put in that position.”

“So where we going?” Allison cut in, as she strapped her wrist guard on.

“That way,” Scott pointed up the street. “Stick together. Those hunters are probably still around somewhere, so keep an eye out.”

All three nodded and then Scott took the lead, heading in the direction he had indicated, while Derek, Isaac and Allison fell in behind him. He used his nose to track Sammy while he kept eyes and ears out for the hunters. It was unsettling to not detect them anywhere.

“Maybe they’re not here,” Derek suggested, as they approached the old police station.

Scott sighed, glancing around. “I don’t know. Why would they take one of us and then not be there when we show up to find her?”

“Maybe they’re planning something,” Isaac spoke up.

“Like what?” Allison asked, her sharp eyes darting all over for even a sign of another presence.

Scott stopped in front of the abandoned police station and, had it not been for his quick reflexes, Derek would have bumped into him.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Scott replied, smiling the tiniest bit. “She’s in there.”

He pointed to the station. The place was old and crumbling, burned down a few years ago during an incident with a local hellhound.

“Is that place even still intact?” Allison asked.

“Some,” Isaac replied, having been there when it had happened. “They managed to stop it before it spread too far. The front is pretty destroyed, but the offices near the back and the evidence locker are still intact.”

“Why do you think they picked here?”

“Coincidence,” Scott said. “Probably. There’s no significance. They just picked an abandoned building to hold her in.”

“One that’s easily accessible,” Derek supplied.

“Let’s not get too hopeful. It’s probably trapped.”

“When did you get so pessimistic?” Derek murmured but Scott ignored him, focusing on trying to detect how many people were in the building.

“How’d you wanna do this?” Allison asked. “Split up?”

“Not sure there’s much point,” Scott said. “Do you hear that?”

Allison looked startled but Derek started to nod.

“Yeah,” Isaac said after a moment, causing the human to look alarmed, before he continued, “There’s only one heartbeat in the building.”

“Sammy?” Allison asked.

“Yeah,” Scott nodded, relaxing a little. “But no hunters. We’re definitely looking at traps.”

Allison stepped up to him. “I’ll go in front. If they’ve trapped this place, you can bet that they’ve used wolfsbane.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Isaac asked worriedly.

“I’m the only who will actually be able to disable them too,” she added. “Don’t worry, this isn’t my first danger room.”

Scott and Derek exchanged a glance then both nodded. “Be careful.”

Allison nodded then approached the building. Her steps were hesitant at first, her eyes scanned the ground for trip wires or lines of mountain ash. But there was nothing. Feeling a little confused, she continued towards the door.

The door opened easily, like it hadn’t even been locked in the first place, which just lead to more confusion. No traps sprung when she pushed it open wider. Frowning hard, she scanned the room.

“Uh, guys, I don’t think there’s any traps at all.”

“Are you sure?” Scott’s voice caused her to jump, having not realized he was so close.

“I can’t see any,” she shrugged, taking another look around. “No wires, no mountain ash, wolfsbane, anything like that.”

Scott frowned too. “This is really weird. Why would they take one of us and then do absolutely nothing to hide her scent or prevent us from getting to her? What’s the point?”

There was a sudden sharp intake of breath from the huntress. “Distraction.”

“What?”

“Think about it. What would we be doing if we weren’t looking for Sammy?”

“Looking for the next disappearance,” Scott murmured slowly.

“Maybe it’s just another coincidence,” Isaac suggested.

“We’ve filled that quota for the night,” Scott replied lowly.

“You’re not suggesting that the hunters have something to do with the missing persons, are you?” Derek asked disbelievingly.

“No, maybe not,” Allison shook her head, turning to look at him, “but they might know who’s behind them.”

“Bit of a long shot,” he responded.

“But it makes sense,” Scott replied. “Let’s just go find Sammy.”

He brushed past Allison and started heading towards the back of building – where most of the rooms were intact and where Sammy’s scent was leading him.

“Sammy?”

Sammy's voice floated through the building. “ _Scott? Is that you?_ ”

“Just hold on, we’re coming.”

Scott weaved through the corridors, passing various interrogation rooms, what was left of them at least, and storage cupboards, until he reached the Sheriff’s office at the very back of building. “Sammy?”

“I’m in here,” Sammy’s voice came through the door clearly. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to get you out,” Scott assured, reaching to open the door, only to be stopped by a line of mountain ash. Allison once again stepped forward to break the line with her foot and then crouch to pick the lock. It was old and a bit rusted and damaged, but easy enough to work. The door swung open and Sammy peered out from the dark room.

“Hey, guys. Uh, where are the hunters?”

“They don’t appear to be around,” Scott replied, relaxing deeply at the sight of his beta, alive and apparently unharmed. “Did they hurt you?”

“Not really,” Sammy stepped out of the room. “I mean, they knocked me pretty good around the head but that healed a while ago.”

Scott reached out to touch her, curling his fingers around her wrist to guide her out. Physical affection was how wolves reassured themselves of their pack mates’ health. Both Derek and Isaac reached to clap her on the shoulder or touch her arm. Allison, being human, didn’t need to but did so anyway, for the sake of the werewolves.

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Scott smiled his first real smile of the day. “And someone should call the others, let them know that we found Sammy.”

They all trouped back out of the Sheriff’s station, feeling slightly better than they had when they’d entered the building.

At least _something_ had gone right tonight.

* * *

“Are you sure you shouldn’t go to bed?” John leaned in the doorway to the dining room as he watched his son munch his way through what must have been his seventh apple.

“I’m hungry,” Stiles replied through a mouthful.

“I can tell,” John responded, faintly amused as he moved to join Stiles at their small dining table. “Is this because of your magic?”

Stiles nodded the affirmative. “I’ve exerted a lot of energy tonight. What with my shoulder and sensing for the Darach. I need to replenish it.”

“By sleeping and eating,” John guessed.

“Yeah. I usually sleep it off, actually. But that’s why I eat a lot of apples all the time. I use my magic almost constantly, usually without thinking too. So I eat to keep my energy up.”

John nodded. “I remember you telling me something similar before.”

“Well, tonight, I was searching for the Darach, which shouldn’t have taken so much out of me, except…I’m also healing my shoulder. All my energy flooded to tend to that, and I literally had to pull it away to use my other powers.”

“How long will it take you to recover?”

“Uh, about two days to recover from tonight and then around three more for my shoulder to heal.”

“That quickly?”

“I have good magic,” Stiles finished his current apple and reached for another.

John, clearly amused by his son, startled when the doorbell suddenly rang. He glanced at his watch – it read 2:45 am – and stood to go answer it, wondering who the hell was calling around at this time in the morning.

“Scott,” John greeted the young man in surprise. “And Derek. What can I do for you?”

“We just came by to tell you that we found Sammy, and she’s okay,” Scott said, smiling a little.

“You could have called,” John pointed out.

“Actually,” Derek cut in, “I wanted to stop by and, uh, see how Stiles was doing.”

“He’s okay,” John responded after a slight beat. “Eating his way through my kitchen cupboards at the moment though.”

Scott looked vaguely uncomfortable at the topic of his ex-best friend. Stiles had said something a few days ago, about not wanting to talk to Scott until the other was ready, which John had brushed off as an excuse for avoiding the Alpha. But looking at Scott now, maybe Stiles had been right.

“He’s just trying to recover from earlier,” he added after a moment.

“Earlier?” Scott echoed suddenly, glancing at Derek in such a way that John figured the young Alpha hadn’t been told about Stiles being called in for the search.

“I asked him to help us look for the next disappearance,” John said in response to Scott, who only looked confused.

“But how could he have helped? I mean, he hadn’t exactly been around in a while. And he’s injured, for that matter.”

“That’s something you’d have to talk to him about.”

“Shouldn’t he be sleeping?” Derek asked. “He was dead on his feet before.”

“That’s what I said, but he said he was hungry,” John replied, smiling fondly. “I couldn’t stop him if I tried.”

Scott glanced between them. “Is, uh, is Stiles okay?”

“Yeah,” John quickly assured, “he’s fine. Just a little drained from earlier.”

“What exactly happened earlier?” Scott only looked more concerned. “What did Stiles do to help you guys find the disappearance?”

John gestured for them both to come in. “You guys look almost as tired as Stiles. Why don’t come in for a bit? Stiles is still eating, so we can talk about it then.”

Scott hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to see Stiles, or actually talk to him either. It had been eight years since they’d last seen each other, and while he’d come to terms with his ex-best friend’s absence, it wasn’t like it didn’t still sting.

But it wasn’t like they could avoid each other forever, not even in Beacon Hills. Even less so since Stiles was John’s son, and since Derek was apparently talking to him too.

“Okay,” he said after another moment, letting out a short breath. “Okay. I’ll come in.”

Derek stepped into the house first, wanting to see for himself that Stiles was okay – and that was something he’d have to come back to – but he waited for Scott. After all they were pack, and pack did things together.

Scott took in another deep breath and then decided for sure. He strode through to the kitchen without another thought – because he probably would have talked himself out of it then – to see Stiles sitting at the dinner table, looking fucking _exhausted_ as he munched listlessly on one of the reddest apples Scott had ever seen, staring at the window.

“Who was at the door, Dad?” Stiles asked. At the lack of reply, he flicked his eyes towards the doorway…

And pretty much leapt to his feet at seeing Scott. “Uh, Scott, hey.”

“Stiles,” Scott said, his voice slightly quieter than intended. “Long time no see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is basically a lot of nodding in this chapter. Like, I ran out of actions for them to do - cause I was tired a lot when I was writing parts of this chapter - so they all just nodded at each other.
> 
> I wasn't planning on mentioning Jordan so soon, but things don't always work out that way. Let's just say he's away to learn about his powers and whatnot. I'm hoping to introduce him in the sequel, since a hellhound is probably going to be fitting for the storyline I have planned.
> 
> Small note that I wanted to say: All Alphas have Alpha Instincts but only the good ones, like Scott and Derek, use them obviously, that's why Derek made a distinction in that comment. I just really wanted to say that.
> 
> Chapter title comes from: [Ready Aim Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHWez2Z4crc) \- because I decided to remember that Imagine Dragons have produced more than one album of thirteen songs.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who may wondering: the reason I stopped writing is that, about a few - read: about nine - months ago, I was setting up a new RP account for some OCs of mine and received a message with a few comments that knocked my confidence as a roleplayer. All my muse disappeared and it took a while for me to get back on my feet.
> 
> If you look at my OC blog, you would see a bit of a time jump between posting, because I couldn't bring myself to do any RP'ing. As it is, my Stiles is still inactive - although that's largely because of my shitty computer - and it is clear of all posts but one. I even had to remake my personal, because I couldn't face Tumblr at all.


End file.
